


Turn the Tide

by AlyssaSedai



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Businessman Draco, F/M, Friends to Lovers, Hermione is all business too, Hogwarts Eighth Year, Pining Draco Malfoy, Slow Burn, Theo somehow ended up in there as well, dramione - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-26
Updated: 2019-11-11
Packaged: 2020-05-20 05:27:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 34
Words: 85,401
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19370482
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AlyssaSedai/pseuds/AlyssaSedai
Summary: As both Hermione and Draco return to Hogwarts for their eight year, an unlikely friendship blossoms between the two.Deciding to start a business together after graduating, are they willing to work for what they really want? And how much will they give up for true love?(rated M for further chapters - there will be some Malfoy-lovin', promise!)Draco was still watching her, now with a hint of a smile on his lips.“Malfoys are known for two other things as well – we’re patient. I can bide my time.”“And the second thing?”Brown eyes questioned his assessing grey ones.“In the end, we always get what we want Hermione.”Hermione knew she was in trouble. And it sent shivers down her spine.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> JK Rowling is a goddess and owns all the rights to the awesomeness that is the wizarding world.  
> Bad decisions, heated stares and heartwarming hugs are all mine.
> 
> While I'm still writing while posting the chapters, I do have the storyline mapped out and will try to update regularly. If I don't, just send a howler!

**Oh, hush, my dear, it's been a difficult year  
And terrors don't prey on innocent victims**

 

_[Bad Liar - Imagine Dragons]_

**________________________________________________________**

 

_Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap._

The soothing rhythm of the fat raindrops against the window did nothing to soothe Hermione’s nerves.

Absentmindedly she drew random patterns on the glass with her finger, staring at nothing in particular while the Scottish landscape flew by.

 

It was September 1st, the start of a new Hogwarts year, and for the very first time, Hermione Granger had mixed feeling about this. She’d always looked forward to returning to school, even the last years when she knew nothing would be normal when you were Harry Potter’s best friend. And a Muggleborn.

 

But for the first time since her very first train ride, Hermione felt lonely.

 

After the war had ended, she’d felt lost. Sure, she celebrated their victory just as much as the others, and mourned the lives lost. But for the first time, she had no clear goal, no clear direction in which she wanted to go.

 

Her trip to Australia had been a disaster. With the help of the Australian Ministry of Magic and after weeks of travelling around, she had been able to track down her parents. She’d always known she’d taken an immense – but necessary – risk by wiping their memories and giving them new identities, but somehow she’d always believed that as the Brightest Witch of her Age, she’d be able to restore those memories as well. Whenever Hermione Granger set her mind to something, she succeeded. Everyone knew that. And that made her failed mission to Australia so unbearable. There was no way to reverse the carefully performed _Obliviation_ , no way to get her family back. It left Hermione devastated and heartbroken. She was 17 and felt lost and alone.

 

Harry and Ron had taken it upon them to take care of her, cheer her up, get her back on her feet like good friends do. And while they could not take away all the pain, they did remind her that she wasn’t entirely without family after all, and for their sake, she put on a brave face and carried on.

 

And as the boys enthusiastically discussed their plans to join the Ministry as Aurors, Hermione smiled her fake smile and nodded along.

 

But the closer the deadline for the start of Auror training got and the more job offers from the Ministry Hermione received, the more nervous she became. She wasn’t ready to make any big decisions right now. She didn’t know whether she wanted to choose a Ministry job now and plan her whole career at once. She didn’t know, and she was not used to dealing with that feeling.

 

But the real relief came in the form of an official Hogwarts letter: the school offered everyone who would or should have been a seventh year student the past year the chance to return to school and finish an exceptional eight year.

 

Hermione could have cried – she would be able to return to the safe and familiar have that was Hogwarts and to postpone making big decisions for another year. Really, would anyone expect anything else from her than wanting to finish her education the proper way?

 

Apparently, Ron had expected differently.

 

Even though things had been unclear after their kiss on the battle ground, Ron clearly still held hope that one day Hermione would see how perfect them being together could be. He’d been patient with her, and between mourning with his own family, Hermione taking off to Australia and everything else going on in the aftermath of the war, they hadn’t really taken their time to make a clear decision. Thinking back, Hermione wondered whether she’d postponed that uncomfortable conversation on purpose after all. While she loved Ron, she did not love him like that. She would never ever make any concessions when it would come to her own aspirations and life, and she couldn’t say for certain he would always respect that. He needed a partner that could provide him with a warm home, stability and a family. She needed to spread her wings and choose her own direction. And the numerous discussions they’d been having over the past few months alone, were indication enough that Ron was not the kind of man who could give Hermione that freedom.

 

_“Mione, I just don’t get why you would want to return to attending classes and examinations! The three of us can get any job in the Ministry we want without having to take any N.E.W.T.S.!” Ron cried out, trying to start up a discussion that had been held too many times already in the past few days._

_“Just think about it: the three of us together, the Golden Trio, becoming Aurors and ridding the Wizarding world of any fugitive Death Eaters for good! It’s us, it’s always been us, together. Why would you want to ruin that?”_

_There was a dreamy shine to Ron’s eyes whenever he spoke of his Auror career plans, something Hermione hadn’t seen in a long while. And while she really wanted Ron to find his place in the world and make a name for himself, she couldn’t bring herself to join her two friends._

_“Ron…” Hermione sighed, shooting Harry a pleading look. They’d gone over this already a few times, and every time it ended with either Ron or Hermione storming off._

_Harry gave her a sad but understanding smile and distracted Ron by asking him questions about the forms they needed to fill out to start their Auror training. While Harry did prefer Hermione join them, he also understood that once his friend had made up her mind, there was no way she would be convinced otherwise. And that maybe, just maybe joining the Aurors after fighting a Dark Lord for the past few years and never having had a normal school year was all a bit too much for his favourite bookworm friend._

 

And so Hermione had gone to King’s Cross station this morning, all alone.

 

Harry and Ron had left to start their careers a few days earlier, but even if that hadn’t been the case, Hermione was not sure whether Ron would have wanted to see her off. He’d really taken her choice to return to Hogwarts as a personal insult. Hermione could only hope that with a bit of time and distance, he would get over it and try to respect her choice.

 

Not in the mood to socialize with the other returning students, Hermione had quickly boarded the train and occupied a small compartment at the back. She knew most students preferred the other carriages and hoped that they would leave her alone for the ride. And with a sad pang to her heart, she also realised that after the war, the train would not be as occupied as usual.

 

***

 

Draco shifted in his seat and stretched out his long legs on the bench. Knowing it was going to be a long and blessedly quiet train ride, he made himself more comfortable with his book.

 

It felt strange to sit in this train after the year he’d had, and even more so without his usual companions. Crabbe – dead. Goyle – imprisoned. Parkinson, Zabini – not returning. Nott – ignoring him. Not that he’d expected his fellow Slytherins to act any differently. People were still wary around him, even after his trial.

 

It felt like yesterday, even though it had been well over two months.

 

_“Next: Draco Malfoy.” the voice of the Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot boomed, so that even Draco, who was waiting in one of the dark corridors leading to the court room, could clearly hear the summons._

_With a quick glance over his shoulder at his mother, who gave him an encouraging nod, Draco followed his guards. Even though he was quite certain that Azakaban was off the table for him – he had after all defected and aided the Order at the end of the war – he was still nervous. But he kept his face neutral and hid any emotions firmly behind his Occlumency walls. Draco silently thanked uncle Severus for that particular skill._

_As he entered the court room, he refused to look around. Most attendees were probably reporters, wanting to witness the trials of all arrested and surviving Death Eaters and Voldemort supporters. He knew his family would be front page news, especially if he’d receive the judgment he was expecting. He kept his eyes firmly on the massive wooden desk behind which several witches and wizards – his judges – sat. They looked tired, which wasn’t a surprise knowing with which persons and files they’d had to deal the past weeks._

_After Draco had taken a seat on the lone seat in the middle of the room, the Chief Warlock cleared his throat and began to sum up his crimes. Draco barely registered what was being said – there was no reason why he should, as he knew that very list by heart and had recounted it in his head over and over again during the long lonely hours at home during the war. Gone over and over it until he couldn’t take it anymore. Until that fateful night they’d brought_ her _to the Manor and everything had changed._

_The Chief Warlock now had come to the part where he was listing everything Draco had done in order to accelerate the end of the war and how he’d defected. Again, Draco did not listen to the details._

_Instead, his eyes started skimming the room. He knew some people were in attendance to testify in defense of his case. Potter – of course, always doing the right thing. No redheads – which was not a surprise. Shacklebolt – temporary Minister of Magic himself. A few other Order members. Not her._

_Even though that knowledge did not surprise Draco, he somehow, deep down had hoped to catch a glimpse of her at this trial. To know that she cared enough by being here today. It stung more than he liked to admit to himself._

_When the Chief Warlock finally pronounced his judgment, Draco knew he should be grateful for the second chance he was offered. Even if one of the conditions was to return to Hogwarts to complete his education._

_And he should be even more grateful for the knowledge that his mother would make it out relatively unscathed as well – she’d joined the Order not long after Draco and would no doubt receive a similar light and symbolical punishment._

_As for his father… Draco knew there was little hope there. Lucius Malfoy had been and remained a loyal supporter of Voldemort and the blood purity beliefs, something Draco knew would not be easily forgiven. Or forgotten. Together with other arrested Death Eaters, his father would be locked up and isolated in Azkaban. It seemed that all the money in the wizarding world – of which the Malfoys owned a considerable share – would not be enough this time around._

_Draco just hoped he did not have to see his father before they took him away. After everything, there was nothing left to say._

_As the Wizengamot finished wrapping up his case, one of the guards released Draco’s hands and gestured to a small door at the back of the court room._

_As Draco stepped through it, he slowly breathed in and out. Freedom had never tasted so good. And who knew, being sequestered away at Hogwarts for a year might be just the thing he needed to get back on his feet and ready to decide upon the direction House Malfoy would take._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter sneak peak:
> 
>  
> 
> _That thought had her smiling and she glanced up at Malfoy again. He sat a bit too straight on his chair, as if he was physically holding himself back._


	2. Chapter 2

The Great Hall looked and felt like it had before – as if there hadn’t been a war just a few months ago. It was astounding what restoring magic could do in such a short time if you had enough wands to cast the spells.

 

The only thing that could indicate that something had happened at the end of the last school year, was the fact that most House tables were not as packed with students as they had been the previous years.

 

Sitting in his usual spot at the Slytherin table, Draco realized that they were the smallest group now, barely filling up half of the available space. The wary glances the other students were sending the Slytherins didn’t help either, but those were easy to ignore. Draco never really had cared for the other Houses anyway, except when it had come to knowing the other Quidditch teams’ strengths and weaknesses. _Or knowing who beat his test scores in almost every subject._

 

Harder to ignore were the stares of his fellow snakes. The ones that did not throw him openly hostile looks just ignored him. Whether that was because they believed him to be a traitor or just were wary around him – the Malfoys were not easily brought down - he did not know. What he did know was that it left him sitting all by himself at the end of the table, the only eighth year Slytherin that had returned.

 

And maybe that was not such a bad thing. After all that had happened, with the ugly black reminder of his biggest mistake branded on his left arm, he wouldn’t have known how to behave around his former classmates. He’d always been the Silver Slytherin Prince. His name had carried a certain weight and his fellow snakes had known to respect that. But now… he just would have to keep his head low, ears open and grades high. And somewhere deep inside, Draco felt relieved.

 

*

 

One month. One month and it felt like a lifetime.

Where days had seemed to flow by the past seven years, Hermione would have bet a hefty amount of Galleons that time magic was playing tricks on her. She was sitting in her quiet little corner in the library, which had very quickly become the one spot she was spending almost all of her time.

 

Being back at Hogwarts, and more particular in Gryffindor had been tougher and more lonely than expected. Than she ever could have imagined. Not only was Hermione out of touch with the other Gryffindors, but her status as war heroine and one of the Golden Trio left her isolated and without any true companions. Up till now, Hermione had never realized how much time she’d spent with just Harry and Ron. It had always been the three of them and Hermione had never seen any need to make other friends in her own House or any of the other three. She’d been so occupied with her own studies, keeping Harry alive and Ron out of trouble – not to mention doing their homework and keeping them in line to make it to the next year – that she’d never really joined any club, group or even acquainted herself with others in her year, or any of the younger students.

 

Now, after a few awkward conversations – _more like interrogations -_  with younger Gryffindors, she tried to avoid the common room. As she was the only Gryffindor eighth year, she did not have any dorm mates. Which in itself turned out to be a blessing. Hermione had never been too fond of sharing her dormitory with the other girls and had never really bonded over “girly” stuff. After the camping disaster last year, there was nothing better than returning to the solitude of her room at night.

 

And last but not least: Ginny. Where Hermione had thought they were friends after spending so many summers at the Burrow, Ginny had made it clear that family always came first. She had not taken the news of ‘abandoning’ Ron well. Hurting Ron meant a silent treatment for Hermione, even though Ginny could or should not know any particulars about that non-relationship.

 

And not only was she coolly ignored by Ginny, but by the other seventh year Gryffindors as well. They all flocked around Ginny, who was a bit of a war heroine herself, not to mention their favourite Quidditch player in the House. It seemed that Gryffindor had a new redhead princess. And that meant out with the old.

 

Staring down at her parchment, Hermione was going over her proposal for her Arithmancy project one more time. If she could pull this off, it would mean a serious improvement in the way Arithmancy was approached. Biting her lip and wondering whether even this might be a bit too ambitious even for her, she did not notice someone had approached her table.

 

The sound of books being dropped on the table startled her out of her thoughts. Glancing up Hermione had to blink twice to see that none other than Draco Malfoy was pulling out a chair to make himself comfortable at her table.

 

Hermione just stared, mouth open as if she wanted to say something, but didn’t know quite what. What did you say to someone who had tormented you for years because of where you came from, who then so surprisingly turned out to be an ally during the war and with whom you hadn’t had a decent conversation… ever?

 

She kept on staring as Malfoy pulled one of the tomes closer and opened it on a bookmarked page. It appeared he was starting on his Potions essay, even though Hermione knew they still had three weeks to complete their observations on elements influencing the efficiency of Skele-Gro.

 

Of course, she had already completed her first draft of her essay – what else was she going to do with her free time anyway? – and even though she respected Professor Slughorn’s experience and knowledge, she did not agree with his statement that they should look at ingredient quantities. She’d penned down a lengthy paragraph on adding powdered Dittany leaf to make the process of regrowing bones less painful. Even though Hermione had not actually brewed her new version of the potion, she was quite certain it could work.

 

Malfoy glanced up through his lashes, and for a moment Hermione thought she detected an amused glimmer in his silver eyes – as if he knew something she didn’t.

 

“I added two drops of Horklump juice.” he suddenly remarked in a quiet voice, refocusing on his book.

 

Hermione blinked.

And before she could give it any further thought, she shot back: “Crushed Dittany leaf.”

 

She could see Malfoy going through the same thought process as she had earlier.

“To numb the pain to the muscles during the regrowth.” came his reply as her solution dawned on him and he met her gaze again. It didn’t sound hostile, and Hermione chastised herself for expecting so.

 

“Horklump juice: to heal the muscles being stretched during the regrowth.” she shot back almost immediately. She could not help herself when it came to showing off her extensive knowledge and fast deduction skills.

 

The corner of her mouth pulled upwards into a tentative smile, which was answered by a half-smirk.

 

Hermione faced her parchment again, trying to hide the pink flush that always appeared whenever she got excited in an academic discussion. She quite literally had to bite her tongue to avoid interrogating Malfoy. It seemed they’d had the same rough idea of improving Skele-Gro and she badly wanted to dig deeper and go over theories with him. Even if it was Draco fucking Malfoy. By now, she was feeling so lonely and stuck in her literal little corner, she wouldn’t have cared if Millicent Bulstrode had turned up and into a Potions talent.

 

That thought had her smiling and she glanced up at Malfoy again. He sat a bit too straight on his chair, as if he was physically holding himself back.

 

And in that moment, Hermione decided that whatever may come of it, she was at least going to try and behave as she would have with anyone else. After all, it had been Malfoy who had sought out her table in the first place.

 

“But I’m thinking, if the dose of Horklump juice isn’t potent enough to last through the whole healing process…” she began, noticing Malfoy’s posture began to relax. And before she knew it, they were deeply immersed in what was probably the first long conversation she’d had with anybody since her return.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter sneak peak:
> 
> _“Wait!” Draco called after her, “you dropped your wand!”_
> 
> _But she had already fled the now empty corridor. Draco sighed, picked up Granger’s wand and started after her._
> 
> _Rounding the corner, he barely caught a glimpse of Granger opening the first classroom door she passed and disappearing from sight._
> 
> _Without hesitation, Draco followed her in._
> 
> _And what he saw made him stop._


	3. Chapter 3

 

 

Strangely enough, they quickly adopted their simple routine, not questions asked – even though Draco often caught Hermione biting her lip, keeping herself from blurting out something. And even though they started to seek out each other’s company quite deliberately, they were still cautious around each other, as if saying the wrong thing might break the fragile understanding they had.

 

They shared their table in the corner of the library, silently working side by side. Then one would casually comment on their homework or one of their classes and before either of them knew, they’d been discussing the topic, and many others, for an hour or two. Conversation always seemed to flow fluently whenever they started debating in earnest. There was the silent agreement that the topics were strictly limited to academic topics. No questions about the lack of friends, the lack of hobbies or Merlin forbid, anything related to the war or their less than savory past together.

 

Deep down Draco knew that this delicate truce could not last forever. But for now, he was glad to not feel too lonely and to spend time with her. After everything, he was willing to tread carefully. For _her_ , he was willing.

 

And it was such a new concept for him, this tentative friendship where insights and time were freely shared and nothing was really expected from him in return. All his life, friendships had meant making connections that could prove useful. It had meant taking a position, making allies. It had meant seeking out partners in crime, or even minions. And above all, it had meant establishing the Malfoy name and consolidating the powerful position that name could bring him. Whatever it meant, it always came with a price, with expectations and unspoken hierarchical rules. Coming from a powerful pureblood family with Slytherin roots, Draco had never known any better. But with Granger, it was something entirely different.

 

When he’d first approached her, he’d had a plan. He always planned everything, had different options and weighed all the consequences. He always knew what to say to get his way.

To his astonishment, Granger had not only tolerated him near her, but had actually reached out. It had taken him several study sessions in the library with her to realise that she would not require something in return for her time spent with him. That if she sat with him, discussed their latest class with him, she did so because she _wanted to_. Because she wanted to hear his opinion and share her theories with him. Nothing less and nothing more.

 

To the heir of one of the oldest and most powerful pureblood Houses, her openness and honesty were refreshing. No hidden agendas, no power play, …

_Well, at least not from her side._

 

And although their discussions had become a bit more heated once or twice when they’d disagreed Draco had noticed Granger was actively holding back - and he suspected that was because after all, he was still a Malfoy. He’d witnessed her fiery temper more than a few times, even when directed at her Gryffindor sidekicks, but around him she was more cautious.

 

And even though Granger did not hold back to disagree with him or point out flaws in his theories, Draco knew she’d bitten her tongue more than a few times already. And he could not deny that that was what made their discussions interesting and that it heated something inside of him when her magic sparked and she unleashed her temper. Secretly Draco enjoyed baiting her once in a while, just to witness that fire in her eyes, even though she tried to keep it firmly in check around him.

 

Draco was just on his way to the library, thinking on how much she would struggle against his suggestion for the Arithmancy calculation for the next class when he passed a group of giggling first years. Where up until last year they would have given him a wide berth out of respect or fear of the Malfoy name, now they hardly noticed him passing. This kind of invisibility had been quite hard on him the first few weeks back at Hogwarts, but by now Draco was used to it. And glad that most students ignored him, rather than accost him in the hallway. Although some older Ravenclaws and Gryffindors had tried to attack him a few times, so far he had been able to defend himself or disappear in a larger crowd.

 

That was another reason he was grateful for the occasional company of Granger: people did not dare touch the Gryffindor Princess. Being seen alongside her every now and then granted him some kind of protection.

 

A sudden bang around the corner shook Draco awake. Purely on instinct, he whipped out his wand, crouched down in a defensive stance and looked around. For a heartbeat he was back on the battle grounds of Hogwarts, fighting for his life. Hell, he never wanted to relive those moments in these very corridors ever again.

Then a few of the first years from the group he’d passed earlier came running around the corner again, laughing, their robes covered with a layer of green and purple powder. Nothing dangerous, nothing serious. Instantly, Draco relaxed. It had just been a prank, like he had been pulling when he was their age.

 

Just when he wanted to lash out at the kids – which imbeciles set off one of those Weasley gadgets in the middle of a hallway in a school that had been attacked just months ago? – someone else rounded the corner and collided with him.

 

Draco grabbed the person’s shoulders to keep them and himself upright and only noticed a heartbeat later that that bushy mane could only belong to one person.

 

“Shit. Fuck! Sorry!” she stammered, then looked up. “Fuck, Malfoy, sorry!”

Granger scrambled back, looking around with wild eyes. She resembled a frightened animal, looking for an escape.

 

“Granger?” Draco tried, confused to see her in this state and to hear her swear. But her eyes glazed over and she stumbled back, disappearing around the corner.

 

“Wait!” Draco called after her, “you dropped your wand!”

But she had already fled the now empty corridor. Draco sighed, picked up Granger’s wand and started after her.

 

Rounding the corner, he barely caught a glimpse of Granger opening the first classroom door she passed and disappearing from sight.

Without hesitation, Draco followed her in.

 

And what he saw made him stop.

 

There, huddled on the ground, back against the wall, sat Granger. She had curled her arms around her head and was breathing too quickly. Her hands were trembling and she hadn’t even noticed that Draco had entered the empty classroom. Or that she had forgotten her wand in the first place.

 

He immediately recognized the panic attack for what it was, having experienced them himself more times than he would have liked the past two years. It felt wrong to watch her like this, the brave Gryffindor, crumbling in front of his eyes and struggling to breathe.

She always seemed to be the strong one, the one who kept the others in line, who did what had to be done without looking back, who kept Potter alive during the war, giving everyone hope when times were darkest – no doubt about that.

It pained and angered Draco to see her so defeated by her fears. For a brief moment, he wondered if Weasley had been there last summer to comfort her whenever she was plagued by these attacks. A spike of jealousy shot through his chest, but Draco pushed it aside. He was good at pushing feelings aside, thanks to his Occlumency lessons. Right now, she needed to be pulled out of this before she drowned, and it seemed that Draco was the one to do it.

 

Without further thought, Draco locked the door, then closed the distance with a few determined steps and knelt down in front of her.

 

“Granger. Listen to me.” he soothed quietly. “Close your eyes and just focus on my voice. I’m here with you, nothing can happen, no one will touch you. Keep your eyes closed and take a deep breath for me.”

 

Even though the shaking did not lessen, he did notice Granger tried to follow his instructions. _Of course she’s good at following instructions._

 

“Now slowly exhale through your mouth. Good. Inhale again. Exhale. You’re doing well, we’ll get you through this.”

 

Draco kept on repeating the same words over and over again, trying to steady her breath and reassuring her that she was doing a good job.

 

After a while, she seemed to be waking up from the blind panic and tried to compose herself. She refused to meet his eyes however, staring at the ground instead.

 

 _She’s probably embarrassed of having a melt down in front of me of all people_.

 

Still, Draco was reluctant to leave her alone in this state.

 

_You can be there for her, if she lets you. This time, you can be there for her._

 

Then, reaching out and lightly placing her hand on his wrist, Granger made the decision for him.

 

“I… thank you.”

Brown, grateful eyes met silver ones.

 

Not knowing what to say, Draco simply nodded.

 

Granger released his arm and slowly got up again. Draco followed suit, not really knowing what to do or say.

 

Then he remembered he was still holding her wand.

 

“Here,” he said and extended it to her, “you lost this in the hallway.”

 

Confused, Granger blinked and swiped her right hand over her left wrist, where Draco supposed her wand holster must be. At the realisation that it was indeed empty and that Draco probably was telling the truth, she quickly snatched her wand back. She examined it – as if he would have done anything to it – and quickly shoved it back in its holster, hidden by her sleeve.

 

“Thanks.”  she finally replied with a small voice.

 

Draco shrugged, as if following her, comforting her and returning her wand was the most evident thing in the world. Once, it definitely wouldn’t have been, but now... he hadn’t thought twice about helping her. And it felt good.

 

“I brought the book on house elf lore I was talking about last week.” Draco decided to change the topic.

 

Clearly relieved that his focus wasn’t on her panic attack and this awkward situation anymore, Granger gave him a half-smile.

 

“Great, even though I still do not believe that it will change my view on house elf treatment.”

 

“Nah-ah Granger, that was not the topic of discussion. As I recall,” Draco started for the door and held it open for her in invitation, “I was going to enlighten you on the necessity of a bond with a House for the elves and prove you wrong. House elf treatment is an entirely different topic.”

 

Granger huffed, but nodded her thanks at him in passing anyway. “Fine.” she conceded, “but you can’t but agree with me that there is a severe lack of regulation regarding the treatment of elves.”

 

“Don’t you worry your bushy head about that now Granger, I’ll persuade you on the first point first.”

 

“Bushy head eh?” Granger smirked. “Says the man who used more hair product as a first year than all the girls in Gryffindor together, including my Sleakeazy, and that counts for something!”

 

Draco almost stumbled at her little jab. She’d never done this before, this casual bantering with him. It was unexplored territory in their young friendship – he liked to think that was what they had – and he felt a little bit of pride at her initiative. It felt like she did feel comfortable enough around him to give and take these little digs.

 

“I will have you know that I never heard any of the ladies complain about my dashing looks at 11 years old.” came his proud reply and he watched her cheeks flush slightly from the corner of his eye. His lips curled into a confident smirk and he arrogantly cocked an eyebrow.

 

Granger snorted.

“That’s not what I heard.”

 

Despite the fact that Draco had plenty of confidence, her teasing threw him off-kilter for a moment and he stopped in his tracks.

He tried to hide his reaction, but Granger had noticed and just smirked triumphantly at him over her shoulder.

 

“Now wait a minute...” Draco started and caught up again.

 

But Granger just laughed and kept walking on at a brisk pace.

 

And just like that, they continued, like two friends that had known each other longer than a few weeks. Like he hadn’t seen her bleed on his carpet just a few months ago.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter sneak peak:
> 
> _Draco was still watching her, now with a hint of a smile on his lips._
> 
> _“Malfoys are known for two other things as well – we’re patient. I can bide my time.”_
> 
> _“And the second thing?”_
> 
> _Brown eyes questioned his assessing grey ones._
> 
> _“In the end, we always get what we want Hermione.”_


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Our two swots continue to get to know each other. Malfoy cheekiness ahead!

 

 

 

Without looking at him, Hermione dropped Malfoy’s book on house elves next to him on the table.

She quickly settled into her usual seat opposite him and started spreading out her books and parchment on the table with extra care. She took her time arranging her books just so, putting her ink bottle just there, neatly spreading open her Arithmancy project proposal in front of her, … anything to not have to look up at Malfoy.

 

All set up, after fidgeting a bit with her quill, she finally glanced up, only to get caught by Malfoy, who was staring at her expectantly. Hermione pursed her lips and averted her gaze. She dreaded this conversation but could not avoid it entirely without avoiding him as well. Her silence apparently told him all he needed to know. Hermione groaned inwardly – he would never leave the topic be now that the book had given her a completely and shockingly new insight in the dynamics between House elves and their Houses.

 

Where she had always assumed House elves were the equivalent of slaves, it seemed that an elf, by pledging to a specific family or House, was granted that House’s protection as well. On their own, they could be vulnerable – hence why Helga Hufflepuf had offered shelter at Hogwarts back in the early days – but with the protection of a House, they actually had a chance to survive.

_Given that that family treats them well of course._

 

“Come on Granger, say it.” he smirked.

 

Hermione rolled her eyes and crossed her arms in front of her. Refusing to look directly at him, she huffed.

 

“Alright. I believe the book does cover the topic quite thoroughly and that the theories and statements from the elves bundled in there are-”

 

“Say. It.” he interrupted her, his tone demanding.

 

“Yes. Fine. I agree.” Hermione gritted her teeth, “With the book.”

 

“With me. You agree with me.” Malfoy teased. “I was right. Admit it.”

 

“Malfoy, really. It hardly even – hey!”

 

Malfoy had stolen her project papers and was dangling them just out of her reach.

 

“Give that back Malfoy!” Hermione hissed and made an ungraceful attempt at snatching back her work.

 

“Nah-ah Granger.” he insisted, “I want to hear you say it first.”

 

“Don’t be childish. And give me back those papers! I need them for my project and if you so much as even smudge one drop of ink, I can promise you a very unpleasant encounter with my wand.”

 

Hermione was growing agitated now. He was holding her Arithmancy proposal and draft version of the rough outline of her solution. She had only finished it this morning and had not made a copy yet. If he took it, or ruined it in some way, all would be lost and she would have to start over again.

 

 _Why would he do that? He’s not that awful boy anymore._ The little, hopeful voice in her head whispered.

 

“I would say it’s rather childish not to admit you were in the wrong Granger. It’s not that hard, and I’m sure a Gryffindor like you is at least brave enough to admit it out loud.”

 

“And I would say that I should have expected Slytherin like you to manipulate me into giving you what you want. Now give it back!”

 

Hermione jumped up and rounded the table, determined to wrestle the papers from him.

 

Malfoy got up as well, holding the rolls of parchment above his head, just out of her reach.

 

“Giving me what I want?” he drawled. “Quite dangerous to mention that to a Slytherin.”

 

He smirked again, which was both infuriating and making him look quite dashing.

_Wait, where did that come from?_

Hermione shook her head, clearing it of the absurd thought.

 

“Just say those little words Granger.” Malfoy sing-songed, then lowered his voice. “You can even whisper them to me, so no one else hears how the Brightest Witch of our Age had to admit this prat of a Malfoy heir was right all along.”

 

Shooting him a challenging glare, Hermione stepped closer. She would not back down from his taunting, even though she realised they were standing closer than was probably appropriate.

 

“I could just punch you again, Malfoy.” she threatened with a dark smile.

 

“Hmm, I don’t think so. Not anymore.” he replied.

 

Shit. He wasn’t wrong. The punch she’d delivered him in third year had been the release of a LOT of pent up anger. Right now, she did not have it in her to hurt him again, and he knew it.

Deciding to change tactics as threatening and hexing would get her nowhere, Hermione decided that the quickest way to get her work back would be to stroke his damn impossible ego.

 

“Alright, you were right.” she admitted quietly.

 

But he just smiled broadly and cocked his head.

 

“Pardon, didn’t quite hear you murmuring there.”

 

“I said, you were right.” Hermione repeated, grinding her teeth. “Now give me back my papers.”

 

“I really would appreciate it if you could include my name in the statement.”

 

Hermione growled and balled her fists.

“Malfoy!” she warned.

 

But he just kept on smirking and turned away, now taking a closer look at her Arithmancy papers.

“My, this must be quite the essay if you’re so anxious to get it back.” he taunted.

 

“Ok, ok! You were right, oh slithering snake of the Great and Noble house of Malfoy.” Hermione snapped.

She did not want him looking over her proposal. It was still in its early stages and her theory was far from complete yet. She did not want him reading it and discovering flaws in it. She was not ready to discuss this with anyone yet.

 

Trying to reach past him and grab her paper, Hermione just bumped into his back as he twisted his torso to the side and her papers out of reach.

 

“Such snark, Miss Granger. It almost doesn’t feel like you mean it.” Malfoy shot back, never taking his eyes off the parchment.

 

Hermione was quickly losing her patience.

 

“You were right, _Draco_ , you were right.” she finally caved.

 

That certainly got his attention, and Hermione realised that she’d never used his first name before. She’s always referred to him as ‘Malfoy’, whether out loud or in her own head. By the way he was looking at her with slightly widened eyes, he must have realised the same.

 

After a moment of silence, Malfoy offered her her papers, which Hermione almost snatched out of his hands.

 

“See, not that difficult.” he said after Hermione had returned to her place. He sounded more gentle and teasing than she expected, and she had to admit she didn’t mind that.

 

They worked in silence for a bit longer, but soon Malfoy began to pack his things.

 

Just before leaving, he turned to Hermione.

“That Arithmancy proposal looks beyond promising, _Hermione.”_ he said genuinely and left the library.

 

Hermione sat there, not knowing whether she should be more stunned about the fact that Malfoy had praised her work, or had called her Hermione – _or was it Draco now_?

 

 

*

 

 

It was Sunday morning and Hermione relished the quiet in the Great Hall. Aside from a few stragglers, everyone had left the castle for the first Quidditch match of the school year. No matter that it was a Slytherin-Ravenclaw match, all Houses had streamed towards the Quidditch pitch not an hour ago.

 

And while Hermione had always dutifully attended the Gryffindor matches in the past 7 years, she really saw no reason to join her classmates outside this time.

 

With Harry and Ron gone, she couldn’t care less about the game.

With Harry and Ron gone, there was no one left to force her into coming out to watch it.

 

Deciding that she probably should enjoy one of the last nice days of the year, she decided to venture to the other side of the castle grounds, away from the Quidditch pitch.

 

Nearing the Black Lake, she almost didn’t realise she wasn’t alone if not for the familiar platinum hair contrasting starkly with the dark water, dark trees and black cloak.

 

Strange that she should find him here. He’d always been mad about Quidditch – whether it was as a spectator or as a player. So Hermione was more than curious as to why he wasn’t sitting with his fellow Slytherins, cheering on the team. _Or diving after that Snitch._

 

Carefully, Hermione approached Draco. He didn’t turn around, but she suspected he already knew it was her.

 

Silently, Hermione came to stand right next to him. As she turned her head to face him and get her curls out of her face, she noticed the little crease between his eyebrows.

 

Funny how in the short time she’d gotten to know Draco a bit more, she was able to take note of these small facial expressions. He was always so guarded, almost as if he was wearing a mask to hide his true feelings. Even now that they’d formed this tentative friendship and that they joked around every now and then, Hermione felt that she hadn’t really gotten to know him at all. Yet. And somehow she wished she knew what she had to do to change that.

 

“Not cheering for your House?” Hermione probed quietly.

 

Draco glanced at her sideways with a sad smile and simply shrugged.

 

“Now that I’m thinking about it,” Hermione continued, not willing to let it go, “I haven’t really seen you flying this year.”

 

“I still do fly.” Draco finally answered. “Just not on the pitch anymore.”

 

“I bet the female fanclub is devastated. Probably don’t know what to do with themselves and looking for a new Quidditch star to fawn over. However do you get used to showering after the match without disillusioning yourself?” Hermione joked, softly nudging is elbow with hers.

 

Draco grimaced.

“Potter tell you that?”

 

“Fortunately his teammates warned him in advance about the girls who have no qualms breaking into the changing rooms and showers after a match for a “meet and greet” with their favourite player.” Hermione chuckled. Harry had been shocked to learn that it happened more often than not and that the trick was to ward the showers and disillusion oneself.

 

“Well, whoever those fangirls were, I’m not sure they’d be interested in a former Death-Eater anyway. Just like the Slytherin Captain wasn’t. Hell, they’d probably rather take you, a Gryffindor flying disaster, on board than me at this point.”

 “Hey!” Hermione laughed. “I’m not _that_ bad!”

 

Draco scoffed.

 

“If you must know, I’ve successfully ridden a dragon. That alone should qualify me for at least the national team.” Hermione continued, changing the subject to something that might take his mind off the Quidditch game.

 

“I heard about that. I’m quite surprised to hear it indeed is true or it weren’t just wild stories. Never took you for a dragon tamer.” Draco replied, interested now.

 

“It’s not that I don’t have any talent for flying,” Hermione admitted. “It’s just... if you think about it rationally, it’s only a stick of wood between your legs keeping you afloat. And yes, I know all brooms are equipped with all the necessary safety charms and all that. But still, it’s not easy to maneuver and control.”

 

Draco shook his head in disbelief.

“I can’t imagine anything better than flying. Well, I can...” he waggled his eyebrows at Hermione, who blushed slightly. He smirked at how easy it was to rile her up.

 

“But the feeling of gliding through the sky, the freedom of completely being in control of how and where you go... it’s incomparable.”

 

Draco shifted to look at Hermione and put his hands in the pockets of his cloak.

“Maybe one day I’ll even be able to convince you of the beauty of flying on a broom.”

 

Now it was Hermione’s time to scoff.

“As if Harry and practically all the Weasleys haven’t tried. Really Draco, you’ll not get me to hop on a broom and fly off to the horizon anytime soon.”

 

“What if you were hopping on my broom with me?” Draco tried with a strange lightness in his voice. It was almost as if he was too casual about it.

“Maybe you would let me take you flying with me.”

 

“Good luck with that! You’ll never even get me close to the damn broom.” Hermione replied and swatted playfully at his shoulder.

 

“Careful Hermione, you do not want to challenge a Malfoy.” Draco replied with an exaggerated snooty look on his face. “Malfoys never back down from a challenge. We love nothing more than proving everyone wrong.”

 

“Ah, the infamous Malfoy pride? Consider me not so impressed.” Hermione giggled.

 

“We can be very convincing, if we want to.” Draco replied darkly, his gaze not leaving Hermione’s.

 

Hermione felt a blush creep up her cheeks and averted her gaze. She did not know how to react when Draco was giving her that dark, intense look. _He probably knows exactly what kind of effect that look has on women._

 

Still, she could not help but feel a bit flustered by it, by the silent promise in his words.

 

“No need to test out that theory.” Hermione shot back weakly, even though she did find the strength to look back up at him.

 

Draco was still watching her, now with a hint of a smile on his lips.

“Malfoys are known for two other things as well – we’re patient. I can bide my time.”

 

“And the second thing?”

Brown eyes questioned his assessing grey ones.

 

“In the end, we always get what we want Hermione.”

 

Hermione knew she was in trouble. And it sent shivers down her spine.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter sneak peak:
> 
> _“I have my ways too, Miss Granger. We’ll see how much she resists me when she gets to experience my big, warm, making-your-knees-tremble-”_
> 
> _“Alright, ALRIGHT!” Hermione quickly interjected, feeling a blush creeping up her cheeks._
> 
> _“... library.” Draco finished as he arched an eyebrow at Hermione. “Whatever else did you think I would suggest?”_


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Draco gets a letter from the Ministry and Hermione reveals a bit more about her graduation project.

**All the words I'm supposed to say**  
**Stuck inside, they can find their way**  
**Telling you, it will be okay**

 

_[Table of Fools - IBE]_

 

**___________________________**

 

 

Draco breathed in the fresh December air. High above the Hogwarts grounds, leaning on the railing of the Astronomy Tower he could pretend that the rest of the world didn’t exist. If only for a moment. As the wind tugged on his cloak and blew his hair into his face, he had to hold on tightly to the letter he’d just received.

 

The mere thought of the content of it made him grimace. Even though he was not surprised at the Wizengamot’s decision, it still didn’t mean that he’d hoped that it would come later rather than sooner. He wondered how long it would take for his mother to reach out. She was probably writing her own letter to her son at this very moment.

 

The shuffling of feet on the stairs announced the arrival of someone behind him. Draco prayed it would be Hermione – at this moment, she was about the only person whose presence he would be able to stand. She would have seen him leave in a hurry after the post had been delivered. And apart from any other students who still wanted to hex him for what happened last summer, she was the only one who would come after him for a good reason.

 

“Bad news?” she inquired as she came to stand next to him, shoulders almost touching.

 

Draco answered in a monotone voice, keeping his eyes on the ground beneath them.

“News about my father’s punishment. At the end of this month he’ll be stripped of his magic. I wonder whether he would have preferred a Dementor’s Kiss to this.”

 

Hermione remained silent and Draco was glad for it. He didn’t need false sympathy for a man whose punishment was long overdue. It was one of the things he liked about Hermione: she would never pretend around him.

 

She of all people probably had a good idea of what continuing one’s life without magic would feel like... after all, not so long ago this was a reality she’d been threatened with, by his father to begin with.

For someone like Lucius Malfoy, being stripped of his magic and being forced to live like a Muggle, even though he’d been sentenced for life, was the ultimate humiliation. _Not that he deserves anything less._ Draco thought with a dry grimace.

 

“What does that mean for you?” Hermione silently asked.

 

Draco glanced at her sideways and found her looking at him, genuine concern in her eyes.

 

“It means the title of Head of House will pass on to me. It means I will become responsible for the business, the estates, the House obligations, the political projects.”

 

Worry crossed her features as she put a hand on his shoulder. It was hesitant, but it was there. The little gesture felt oddly comforting.

 

“You will be able to finish your education here at Hogwarts?”

 

Draco arched an eyebrow at her.

“That’s what you’re worried about?”

 

She shot him a half-smile.

“Actually, yes. We’ve been through enough, don’t you think? One year of normalcy, of some bloody peace and quiet without having to make any big decisions about our futures can be the least we deserve, right?”

 

Draco shook his head wistfully.

“Finishing my year at Hogwarts is part of my probation Granger. There’s no way I would get out of it, even if I would want to.”

 

And Merlin, he wanted to. He did not want to worry about anything that came with the title he would be getting. About the Malfoy business, which would need a thorough clean-up before he could start working on repairing the damage his father and grandfather had done. About giving the Malfoy name weight and pride again, about mattering again in the wizarding world. He was not ready yet.

 

Draco sighed and let his head rest on his arms, leaning on the railing. Hermione’s hand absentmindedly patted his back.

 

“You have time.” she said, as if she knew what was going on in his head, “time to think on what _you_ want to do, and how you want to write your chapter in your House’s history.”

 

She sounded so confident, as if she believed that he had it in him to turn things around. And maybe he did. After all, what did he have left to lose when it came to the Malfoy name?

 

“Come on Malfoy, or we’ll be late for class. Merlin knows we could do without a lecture on punctuality from Professor Flitwick.”

 

“What’s the hurry Granger? The bell hasn’t sounded yet, we still have at least 10 minutes to get there.” Draco replied as he straightened and put the letter away in his pocket.

 

Hermione grinned and he could detect a hint of the mischievousness he’d never thought to associate with her, but nonetheless loved to see.

 

“Please, your hair is all mussed up from the wind and we all know it takes you an ungodly amount of time to fix that!” she laughed as she turned back to the stairs.

 

With a smirk, Draco turned to follow her, his gloomy mood disappearing a little bit already.

 

*

 

“What are you working on for your graduation project?”

 

Hermione looked up at Draco’s question. Of all the academical topics they’d discussed over the past several months, this one hadn’t come up yet. As Hermione suspected that Draco might not have chosen something, or just had picked something to get it over and done with without too much effort, she had not broached the subject.

 

But it seemed that he was curious enough right now.

 

“I’ve picked Arithmancy.” Hermione started, and she noticed that the corner of his mouth lifted in a knowing smirk. It was not a secret that she loved the subject and that she excelled at it. She’d even already received an offer for an apprenticeship from one of Professor Vector’s colleagues in Germany, but hadn’t given it much thought yet. She wasn’t sure what she wanted to do after Hogwarts anyway.

 

“To summarise it: I want to create a catalogue for Arithmantic numbers combining magic and some Muggle algorithms. Because of the combination of magic and logic, the catalogue should be able to give accurate suggestions as to which numbers would fit in best in which calculations.”

 

Draco stared at her with open interest, willing her to continue with a nod of his head.

 

“The catalogue would allow you to put certain parameters in it, and then you would get a suggestion on which numbers would most benefit your purpose. I know it does not replace the actual calculation, which by far still is the hardest part of it, but...”

 

“Hermione,” Draco interrupted her “that sounds brilliant.”

He gave her one of his rare, genuine smiles, and for a moment Hermione got the feeling he actually sounded proud.

 

“Even if you still have to complete the calculation by yourself, you would only have to do it once with the best numbers, instead of multiple times, only to compare the results in the end and pick the best one. It’s brilliant.” he continued.

 

Hermione blushed and cast down her eyes. Although she knew that she deserved all the praise she got if she could pull this project off, it still felt special to get it from someone who matched her in intelligence and who did not lightly make such comments.

 

“But how are you going to finish this before the end of June?” Draco inquired, his full attention on her now as he put his quill back down and leaned forward. “The amount of information to process alone...”

 

Hermione grinned, completely in her element now.

“See, this is where some Muggle concepts come in. I want to recreate something akin to artificial intelligence: where a machine, once you set the right rules, can be taught how to process information in a certain way. Then after a while, the machine literally learns more things along the way through experience, repetition, and so on. In Muggle technology, one of the more difficult parts is feeding the machine all the information. But with magic, it’s easier to cope with enormous quantities of data – I've been researching and perfecting spells just for that. And I can replace the machine with a simple catalogue, a simple parchment.

 

“Imagine if you could put the contents of an entire library in there!” Hermione continued, with a dreamy glaze over her eyes. “Just think of the possibilities and how this could leverage research in several domains!”

 

Draco chuckled. “Trust you to involve the library.”

 

Hermione playfully swatted at Draco, who ducked in time.

 

“Hey! Careful there! Or I’ll have to inform Madam Pince.” he shot back.

 

“You’d discover there is not much I don’t get away with when it comes to her.” Hermione said confidently, leaning back in her chair with her arms crossed.

 

“I have my ways too, Miss Granger. We’ll see how much she resists me when she gets to experience my big, warm, making-your-knees-tremble-”

 

“Alright, ALRIGHT!” Hermione quickly interjected, feeling a blush creeping up her cheeks.

 

“... library.” Draco finished as he arched an eyebrow at Hermione. “Whatever else did you think I would suggest?”

His too innocent tone told her that her hasty reaction had betrayed where her thoughts had gone.

 

“It’s almost twice the size of the Hogwarts library.” Draco stated matter-of-factly.

 

Hermione’s jaw dropped, but no sound came out of her mouth.

 

“I know, impressive huh?” Draco continued and casually leaned back, swinging one leg over the other. “I usually get that reaction from girls.”

 

“Draco!” Hermione giggled and she tossed a scroll of empty parchment at him, which he easily caught. _Damn Seeker skills._

_“_ What about you?” she changed the course of the discussion.

 

“Oh, just an essay on a few alterations I made to some standard potions.” he replied, waving his hand in dismissal.

 

But Hermione’s interest was peaked.

“Which ones?”

 

Draco leaned back with a that trademark smirk.

“Wouldn’t you like to know? Who says I won’t be keeping it to myself, and make a profit out of it?”

 

Hermione narrowed her eyes at him, but then decided to change tactics to get more information out of him.

“Then I definitely wouldn’t be any competition to you. After all, you’ve always been better at Potions than me.” she tried with a sweet voice.

 

“False modesty doesn’t flatter you. And will not get you anything out of me. Merlin, you’d make a really bad Slytherin.” Draco chuckled.

 

Hermione raised her chin defiantly.

“Well, you did get quite the better treatment from your godfather than the rest of us.”

 

Draco looked taken aback for a second, but quickly found his composure and neutral expression again. He cast down his eyes to the table.

“Not many people know of that relationship.” he said in a quiet voice.

 

“Oh.” Hermione didn’t know what to say. Harry had told her after the Battle of Hogwarts, and while she knew that no one else in Gryffindor had any idea, not even the purebloods, she’d always assumed that everyone in Slytherin knew.

“Then I won’t mention it again.”

 

Draco nodded his head.

 

Hermione didn’t really think about what she was saying next, but there was something about the way Draco was sitting there, all alone – she knew that feeling all too well – that prompted her next question.

 

“Do you miss him?”

 

Draco’s eyes flashed as he looked up, now clearly surprised at the question and unable to hide it well. He seemed to fight an internal battle with himself, before sighing and giving in.

 

“To be honest, yes I do.” He leaned forward, putting his elbows on the table and fiddling with his fingers.

“Despite of what most people thought about him and despite his upbringing and choices, he always supported me, pushed me to _be_ better – unlike my parents who pushed me to _do_ better. Sometimes he was more of a father to me than Lucius ever was.”

 

Hermione was shocked by this confession and she realised that Draco must trust her to some degree to actually admit these things out loud. She didn’t know what to say. Agreeing with him would diminish the honesty of this moment – she could not lie and tell Snape had been a nice person. At least not to her. But she also felt that saying she was sorry for his loss were just empty words.

 

So she reached out, placed her hand on Draco’s wrist and squeezed gently, more as a gesture of gratitude for sharing this with her than comfort really.

 

As she let go, Draco composed himself again and after a few minutes of working in silence, they seemed to be back at their normal routine.

 

Only the air felt a bit lighter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter sneak peak:
> 
> _“Then tell me the truth.” she insisted._
> 
> _“Ha!” Draco scoffed, “as if you’re entitled to it.”_
> 
> _But Hermione would not budge. How could she make this Slytherin talk? With an offer a cunning man like Draco Malfoy couldn’t refuse?_
> 
> _She smiled up coily._
> 
> _“You know what, Draco? I’ll make you a deal.”_


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A little flashback to the battle of Hogwarts, and Hermione discovering one of Draco's secrets. But what price will she have to pay for it?

“... a lot of talent, young Malfoy, …. remind me of his favoured techniques... always recognised this talent in you, just like in Severus, I have an eye for this you see...”

 

Hermione could hear Professor Slughorn drone on in that baritone voice of his. She never meant to eavesdrop on the conversation, but it was impossible to shut it out the way Slughorn kept going on and on.

 

After her Potions class, Hermione had realised she’d forgotten to inform Draco that she wouldn’t be in the library after lunch, because she had an appointment with Professor Vector about her graduation project. Even though Hermione didn’t know for sure whether Draco question where she was whether she showed up or not, she was determined to treat him like she would treat any friend of hers. So that meant retracing her steps back to the dungeon classroom, only to find Draco in discussion with Slughorn about his own project.

 

He still hadn’t told her what he was working on exactly, and if Hermione ever was something, it was curious. She knew he was very good at Potions – the best in their year and probably in the whole school at this moment – so there was no doubt that he would be doing something completely out of the box. And she wanted to know what it was.

 

She liked to think that over the past few months, they’d become friends – at least in her eyes. He’d shown her a side of himself she never even knew existed: playful, teasing, kind, attentive. She wondered whether he usually did hide his softer side, or if his fellow Slytherins were the only ones who got the privilege of seeing this Draco. And somewhere deep down, it did no surprise her to see him changing. After all, he’d already shown his true colours during the war...

 

 

~~~

“ _Down!” someone shouted behind her._

_Hermione was so disoriented from all the spells whizzing by, hitting people beside her and missing them just as many times. She was tired, oh so tired, and only holding on because she knew that letting her guard down for only a second would mean the end. And Harry needed her, and the world needed Harry. Harry, who was currently dueling two Death Eaters and was slowly losing ground._

_So when someone shouted at her, a voice that sounded vaguely familiar, her first reflex was not to obey but just push on to get to Harry in time._

_She jumped when she felt a spell fly by, just barely missing her and singeing the ends of her hair before crashing into the wall behind her. She hardly had the time to locate where its caster was hiding, before something – or better someone – slammed into her and pushed her to the ground._

_Turning her head, she caught a blur of white-blond hair next to her._

_“Malfoy??” she cried and started struggling to get him off of her. His body was covering hers completely and it was hard to get her hands free, let alone the rest of her person._

_“Be still for a moment!” Malfoy snapped at her as he raised his wand in the direction of Harry and muttered a ‘Stupefy’. Hermione’s brain caught up and she pulled his wand-arm down with a hiss. But too late, the spell had been fired off and blind panic threatened to overtake her at the idea of Harry falling in the hands of the enemy._

_“Fuck Malfoy!” Hermione yelled and she doubled her efforts to push him off. But not only was he taller than her, he’d gained a lot of muscle of the last few years and his strength was impressive._

_“Just calm down” Malfoy hissed at her, clearly annoyed. “I’m not going to hurt you! I just saved your bloody skin! And Potter’s for that matter.”_

_Hermione froze at that and turned her face towards his, looking him in the eye for the first time._

_Malfoy looked tired – just as exhausted as she felt – but somehow he did seem to be honest. And even though Hermione’s instincts screamed not to trust the Slytherin and branded Death Eater, her heart told her that she had to look at the facts first._

_Hermione turned her head towards where she’d last spotted Harry, noticing that one of the Death Eaters was laying on the ground, and Harry was chasing away the second one at that very moment._

_She turned back to Malfoy, who was watching her almost patiently. It seemed that he had just incapacitated a Death Eater – one of his own? - to help Harry. And maybe he had pushed her down to save her as well._

_As if Malfoy spotted that that realisation was dawning on her, he slowly pushed himself up again, stood up, quickly brushed off his clothes and then offered her his hand to help her up._

_For a second, Hermione sat there, not really knowing what to say or think. This was Malfoy! Evil Slytherin Malfoy with a skull tattooed on his left wrist! The pureblood boy who bullied her the first years, who up till last time she’d seen him still was after Ron and Harry. And yet here he stood, helping her and Harry, stretching out his hand in a kind offer._

_And Hermione decided to go with her gut feeling before he could change his mind: she grabbed his hand and stood up._

_As she readjusted her wand in her hand, she felt him seize her up, take in her injuries. They were plenty, but none of them too serious._

_With a nod Malfoy turned his gaze towards the spot where Harry had just knocked back the remaining Death Eater. As the woman went down – Hermione guessed it was a woman by her posture and high-pitched shriek – her spell missed Harry and flew straight towards Malfoy and herself. Acting on instinct, Hermione raised her wand and pulled up a non-verbal defense shield in front of the two of them. She’d become rather proficient at those lately. But she never felt the impact of the spell on her shield. Because Malfoy had done exactly the same, only a heartbeat faster. The spell bounced off his shield._

_They both looked at one another, as if surprised that the other one had meant to shield both of them. And even more surprised at the non-verbal magic._

_“Thanks.” was all Hermione got to say. Had to say really. Malfoy nodded again and scanned the castle grounds._

_“You should head inside via the entrance closest to the greenhouses. The werewolves attacked from the opposite side of the castle.” he then said._

_Hermione did not have time to process what this all meant – did he switch to their side? When did this happen? Could she trust him?_

_She then noticed that his jumper was slightly burned at his left shoulder, and blood coated the woolen fabric around the blackened spot. Realisation dawned on Hermione that not only had Malfoy saved her by pushing her on the ground, he’d also taken a hit. For her. For_ her.

 

_She reached out as if to touch the wound, and Malfoy’s gaze followed her fingers. He quickly shied back as he understood she planned to examine his wound._

_“It’s just a scratch.”_

_Hermione hesitated. It did not look that bad at all – Merlin knew she’d seen worse in the past few hours – but she couldn’t help herself._

_“Are you ok?” she asked._

_Malfoy grimaced. “I will be.”_

_Hermione nodded and turned to make her way towards the castle again, via a different route now._

_She paused and watched as Malfoy turned away as well, heading in a different direction._

_“Malfoy!” she called out. He paused, then slightly turned his head to glance at her. His silver eyes looked weary._

_“I’ll find you when this is over.” She didn’t know why she said that, but if he truly had left Voldemort’s side to help them, he could use all the allies he could get._

_For a moment, he just stared at her. Then he nodded, understanding her offer._

 

“ _Counting on it, Granger.”_

~~~

 

“And here I thought you were better at sneaking around with all the stunts you and your two friends pulled off the past couple of years.”

 

Draco’s voice interrupted Hermione’s thoughts, and to her embarrassment he’d caught her standing outside, as if she’d been eavesdropping on his conversation with Professor Slughorn.

She blinked a few times, then looked up at him with flushed cheeks.

 

“I was not trying to listen to your conversation Draco.” she started, but she knew he probably would not believe her. She’d been pestering him with questions about his Potions project, but he always remained quite vague about it. He probably thought she had been trying to find out more.

“I was just waiting for you to come out.”

 

“Is that so?” Draco arched an eyebrow and gestured with his hand to start walking towards the Great Hall.

 

“I did not hear anything at all!” Hermione tried one more time as she hurried to match his strides. “It’s not like it’s easy to filter out any interesting bits in between the boasting and pompous namedropping of Professor Slughorn!”

 

Draco smirked. “Well well, never took you for one to say such things about a dear professor.”

 

“I.. It's not like-”

 

“Relax Granger, I’m only teasing. You make it so easy.” Draco softly nudged her with his elbow.

“But you do have a point, the meeting was not as constructive as I’d hoped. That man just likes the sound of his own voice too much. At least Snape knows what he’s doing when it comes to the more experimental parts of brewing.”

 

Hermione frowned, not missing a beat.

“You mean, Professor Snape _knew_ what he _was_ doing.”

 

Draco made the mistake of looking up at her, and she instantly saw she’d caught him telling something he shouldn’t. He tried to put his neutral mask in place, but he was too slow.

 

Hermione grabbed his arm and forced him to stop and face her.

 

“What do you mean?” she demanded. Why was Draco talking about Professor Snape in the present tense? Hermione had seen his lifeless body after the battle, she was absolutely certain that there was no way that Snape could be alive!

 

“Look, that’s none of your business.” Draco shot back, clearly annoyed now. He tried to pull his arm free from her grasp, but Hermione held on tight.

 

“Oh no, you don’t! This time you’re not going to avoid me or give me evasive answers.”

Hermione scanned the empty corridor before turning back. She marched straight back to the Potions classroom, hauling Draco by his arm.

 

“Will you stop this instant?” Draco spluttered and used his taller form to pull her back, spin her around and pin her to the wall. He effectively blocked her with his body, towering over her in a very masculine way. _Not the time for those thoughts Hermione!_ she admonished herself.

 

“You will not utter a word about this to anyone. Who would believe you anyway?” Draco threatened, his voice low and too smooth to feel comfortable.

 

Hermione tried not to squirm too much and held his gaze. She was not going to back down this time. If Snape wasn’t truly dead, then she just _had_ to know.

 

“Then tell me the truth.” she insisted.

 

“Ha!” Draco scoffed, “as if you’re entitled to it.”

 

But Hermione would not budge. How could she make this Slytherin talk? With an offer a cunning man like Draco Malfoy couldn’t refuse?

 

She smiled up coily.

“You know what, Draco? I’ll make you a deal.”

 

She recognised the interested spark in his arctic grey eyes as soon as she’d mentioned a deal. _Got you!_

_“_ And what would you have to offer that could convince me to reveal my secrets?” Draco smirked lazily. “What would be something I wouldn’t be able to get on my own?”

Hermione could feel his burning eyes as they dropped down and roved over her body. She knew that he did that just to make her uncomfortable and to throw her off balance, so she tried her best to ignore his burning stare.

 

“I’ll owe you one favour.” Hermione smirked back.

 

She could see the radars spinning in his head. She knew someone like him would not be able to pass up such an opportunity, coming from her.

 

“One favour. Anything at all?” Draco inquired, not even bothering to hide his interest.

 

“Apart from anything illegal or anything that might ruin me socially, financially or humiliates me – yes, anything. In return, you explain your comment about Professor Snape right now and reveal all the details of your project to me. Your call, Draco.” Hermione explained.

 

She knew that he would take the bait, and got bold.

“But if you’re not interested, then so be it.” she shrugged nonchalantly and shifted to the side to get away from him.

 

Draco firmly placed his hands next to her head, preventing her escape.

He gazed down at her, a calculating look in his eyes.

 

“You have your deal, Hermione.” he purred. He looked like the cat who just got the cream and for a second, Hermione doubted whether she hadn’t underestimated him. But it was too late now, so she simply nodded.

 

Draco didn’t move however, still trapping her with his body.

His eyes flicked towards her lips, and he briefly licked his own. Hermione felt warmth pool in her abdomen, and desperately wanted to squirm under his gaze. She knew she should say something, give him a little push, but the thought of touching him right now was too much. So all she could do was stare back at him and await what he would do.

 

Draco leaned in closer and Hermione held her breath.

He then turned his head slightly and brought his lips near her ear. She could feel his breath tickle her skin there.

 

“I like it when your Slytherin side comes out to play.” he whispered and then took a step back.

 

Hermione blinked one, twice and tried to recover from the spell as best as she could. She had no illusions whatsoever that Draco had not noticed that she was struggling and that her breath was a bit more shallow than usual.

 

“Follow me.” Draco stated and started walking towards one of the side-corridors.

Hermione hastily adjusted her bag and caught up.

 

“Where are we going?” she managed to ask.

 

“To my dormitory.” he replied, and smirked at the blush that appeared on her face.

 

*****

 

“Draco, I definitely should not be here...” Hermione tried, but to no avail.

She counted herself lucky that the common room had been empty – most students were having lunch right now or were enjoying the first rays of sunlight in between the April showers. Also fortunately, Draco had a dorm room of his own, just like Hermione. As much as she did not want to be here, at least she could not be caught by another dormmate. She shuddered at how that would feed the rumour mill quite a bit.

 

Draco was rummaging through his trunk, doing something with its lid. Hermione had her suspicions that there were secret compartments all over the thing, knowing Draco.

 

Finally, he retracted a sturdy flat box, almost as big as her schoolbag. He held it with some sort of reverence, and Hermione was curious enough to come and stand next to Draco.

 

“What I am about to show you will not leave this room.” Draco stated more than he asked. Hermione nodded nonetheless.

 

“Of course Draco, you know I will not get you in trouble.” she assured him. Draco held her gaze for a moment, then opened the box with a nod. He carefully set the lid aside, then folded back the black velvet fabric that became visible.

 

Hermione’s eyes widened and she even gasped in surprise.

Inside the box, Draco revealed a portrait of no one other than Severus Snape.

 

“Miss Granger.” Snape drawled in greeting. Hermione could see he wasn’t too thrilled to see her, but on the other hand, he probably was glad to see and speak to someone at all.

 

“Professor.” Hermione replied, and hated that she sounded a bit breathless.

 

“I’m surprised Draco. But then again, maybe not.”

Snape raised an eyebrow at his former favourite pupil.

 

“Severus, I can-” Draco began.

 

“No need.” Snape interrupted him. “Now, if you two are quite done gawking, I shall retire to one of my other portraits, where I will not be disturbed.”

 

Without waiting for their reply, Snape left his frame.

 

With a sigh, Draco covered up the portrait once more.

When he looked back up, Hermione was grinning at him.

 

“This is amazing, you know!” she started. “All his knowledge, experience, genius... conserved and ready to keep on contributing!”

 

Draco grimaced.

“It’s not that simple. For one, he’s making a rare exception for me to help me set up. And I’m not sure how compliant to the deontology of the Potions Guild this all is...”

 

Hermione quickly caught on – it seemed that Draco was not as much on his guard as usual.

“Set up what?”

 

“I think one secret is quite enough for the day, don’t you think?” Draco shot back, but his smirk betrayed that he was not that upset.

“Let’s get you out of the Slytherin boys’ dorms first, Gryffindor Princess!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter sneak peak:
> 
> _Draco propped his elbows on the table and leaned in._
> 
> _“I want that gorgeous brain of yours.”_
> 
> _Hermione’s cheeks flushed a lovely shade of pink at that and Draco grinned._


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Draco is here to collect his favour, but will Hermione agree, or will she do what's she's best at: surprise him and do her own thing?

 

**You're the only way to me**  
**The path is clear**  
**What do I have to say to you**

 

_[Just say yes - Snow Patrol]_

 

**___________________________________**

 

After the encounter with Severus’ portrait, Hermione had been watching him like a hawk. She seemed dead set on finding out what he was up to. He smirked at the thought that soon she would be more involved than she could have imagined.

 

There were only five weeks left here in the castle. Only five weeks to figure out his final plan, to make the right contacts and close the right deals. Five weeks before he became the Head of the House Malfoy and he had to take up his responsibilities. He knew what he wanted was ambitious, but that had never stopped him before. On the contrary, Draco loved nothing more than a challenge.

 

Which brought him to the situation at hand. He’d been delaying this long enough now. With only five weeks to go, of which two would consist of finals, he knew time was running out and he had to convince Hermione.

 

As she’d opened up to him more and more, he’d gotten a good insight in her character. She was not only intelligent, but also diligent, headstrong and never ever backing down from something. When they were younger, he would have cruelly called it ‘her charity cases’. But it was more than that – she stood up for what she believed in and stuck by it. And now, Draco could only hope she’d stick by him as her newest ‘charity case’.

 

Only two days ago, she’d come rushing in, proudly showing him her final version of her Arithmancy catalogue. They’d spent the rest of the evening testing it out, feeding the catalogue increasingly difficult calculations before resorting to the more silly ones that were bordering on divination. And he had to admit he’d actually had fun with her. It had felt so easy, so natural to work together, feeding off each other’s brains. When he’d retreated to his dorm later that night, he’d had a light spring in his step and almost – _almost -_ a ghost of a smile on his lips. He didn’t dare to label it as happiness. Or anything else for that matter.

 

Draco had to admit he was more than impressed. And he’d told her so. She’d turned to him in surprise, before flashing him that radiant, warm smile of hers and thanking him.

 

While testing her catalogue, Draco had immediately recognised the amazing potential her work could have, not only in the field of Arithmancy.

If he could somehow convince her to incorporate this into his new business venture, they could be successful and change the playing field in no time.

 

And that was what had brought Draco here, at their usual table in the library at 8 in the morning on a Sunday.

 

The soft _click-clacking_ sound on the library’s tiles announced Hermione’s arrival.

As she turned the corner, her eyebrows shot up in surprise at seeing Draco sitting there. She didn’t even bother to hide her emotions around him, something he wasn’t willing to reciprocate around her. _Yet._

 

“Good morning.” she greeted him, striding over to her usual seat and dumping her bag next to it.

 

“Morning.” Draco replied, not lifting his eyes from her.

 

“What brings you here so early in the morning? And without any books?” Hermione inquired without looking up from her bag.

 

Draco turned towards her and folded his hands together in front of him.

_This is business Draco, you can do this._

“I actually came to collect my favour.”

 

Hermione froze for a second before dropping whatever she was holding back into her bag and faced him with a confused frown.

 

“What?” she asked, still looking as if he’d just told her she wouldn’t be allowed to take her finals this year.

 

Draco resisted rolling his eyes. He had not expected her to act as if she’d forgotten this little detail.

 

“You know, the one you promised me in return for seeing Severus’ portrait.” Draco stated dryly.

 

“Yes, yes.” Hermione waved her hand impatiently. “Hard to forget that one. My question is: what do you want? And why now?”

 

Draco leaned back in his chair, trying to project a nonchalant air. _Here we go._

 

“In five weeks, we’ll be Hogwarts graduates.”

 

Hermione grimaced and muttered something along the lines of ‘don’t remind me’.

 

Draco ignored her comment and continued.

“I bet you’ve been planning on how you will spend your time and talent outside of these walls. I bet the Minister himself has already contacted you with some very enticing proposals. I bet that your friends have already expressed their joy at the prospect of having your around at the Ministry – what a lovely headline in the Daily Prophet that will make: ‘the Golden Trio finally reunited!’. And I bet that you still haven’t decided yet.”

 

Hermione’s surprise at his last words clearly showed on her face.

 

“Why would you say that?” she questioned, leaning in closer over the table towards Draco.

 

“Because you never do anything by half. If you’d accepted one of the Ministry positions, you would have been preparing yourself by now. You wouldn’t have been able to hide your excitement. You’re always so expressive Hermione.” Draco replied with more confidence than he felt.

While he was saying these things with the usual confidence, he wasn’t certain at all he’d read her correctly. Deep down he was _hoping_ that he’d read her correctly, that she hadn’t said yes yet to any of the propols she no doubt would have received. He needed her more than the Ministry needed her.

 

Draco inhaled and continued his prepared speech.

 

“But you haven’t said a word. Not one thing. Haven’t broached the subject, haven’t spent time pouring over Ministry law, regulations, procedures or other literature.” Draco continued.

 

Hermione was staring at him, baffled by his assessment.

 

“And let me be honest with you, Hermione.” Draco registered how his words and the use of her name made her lean in just a hair closer. He filed that away for later.

 

“Your talent and intellect will be wasted at the Ministry. I have no doubt that you have big plans to reform the ancient – and let’s be honest, old-fashioned institution from the inside out. That you will use the leverage your name and fame have now to force the change upon them, to better the lives of those you feel have been neglected by the wizarding community.”

 

He could see she was hanging on every word that passed his lips now. She was almost nodding along with him. Draco almost smiled at the fact that he had appraised her character that well, that he was beginning to understand how she thought, how she acted and what ticked her boxes.

 

“And the disappointment will crush you.” He ended with a dramatic pause. He had her undivided attention and she was waiting for him to continue, literally with baited breath. _Here goes my one shot, my one chance._

 

“I know the Ministry, my family has been involved in it’s affairs, it’s decisions and it’s inner workings for as long as the Ministry has existed. It will not change overnight. It will not bend to your will, your arguments or your anger. It will give you a pat on the head, tell you you’re a good girl and then put you behind a desk to be more of a living poster girl than anything else. You will not be happy there.” Draco spoke in a low voice.

 

Hermione was staring at him now. They both remained silent for a while, and then suddenly, Hermione started laughing.

 

Draco let her, although he did worry for her sanity for a second there. _Have I gone all wrong about this?_ For a split second, he wanted to panick.

 

As Hermione started catching her breath, she leaned forward and grabbed his wrist.

 

“Thank you Draco.” she said to his astonishment.

“I really needed to hear that. I’ve been going over the job offers over and over again, but haven’t replied to any of them yet. It just didn’t feel right for me, despite what everyone around me told me. Hell, they even wanted me to join the Auror team! As if I haven’t seen enough fighting for a lifetime after last year!”

 

She gently squeezed his wrist, before letting go again and Draco had to suppress the urge to lean in and chase her hand with his.

 

“As you’ve been so observant, then what would you suggest?” she said, barely containing her curiosity.

 

Draco leaned back and smirked. _Yes. Here we go._

“This is where I call in my favour. Join my business instead.”

 

Hermione’s eyebrows flew up in astonishment. It was clear that of all things Draco could have said, this was not what she had expected. He could see that she was about to say no, so he quickly shoved his chair closer to hers, turning towards her with his whole body.

 

“Hear me out first, then think about it. After my father’s sentence, the title of Head of House and all that comes with it was transferred to me.”

 

Hermione opened her mouth, no doubt to fire off a myriad of questions.

 

Draco cocked one eyebrow at her. She could be so impatient.

 

“Sorry,” Hermione blushed, “please continue.”

 

Draco almost smiled at the way she was biting her lip to keep herself from interrupting him again.

 

“As I was saying… When I return home next month, I will pick up all the duties tied to the title, including running the Malfoy business. But I want a fresh start, something of my own.”

 

Draco knew he was showing her a more vulnerable side of himself. But he figured that if he wanted to convince her, he had to. And strangely enough, it did not bother him as much as he thought it would.

_See what I want you to see, Hermione._

 

“I’m opening up a Potions business. And yes,” he smirked when Hermione opened her mouth to snap it shut again immediately “Severus is helping me as much as he can. But I don’t want to start this the old-fashioned way – I want to enter the market with something new, something better.”

 

As Draco continued his explanation, he couldn’t help but let a bit of excitement leak into his voice and sit up a bit straighter. This was his own project and when he succeeded, he would have something to be proud of that was his – it wouldn’t be some inherited old money or the same shady business and political dealings his ancestors were involved in.

 

“And where would you need me in there? I’m hardly the Potion genius.” Hermione chuckled.

 

Draco propped his elbows on the table and leaned in.

“I want that gorgeous brain of yours.”

 

Hermione’s cheeks flushed a lovely shade of pink at that and Draco grinned.

 

“I want that genius piece of parchment we’ve been testing this week. Imagine Hermione, what we could do if your catalogue could be adapted to calculate the effects of potion ingredients! How easy, fast and accurate potions could be improved without weeks of brewing, testing and wasting resources! Imagine what that would mean for the production cost of the products!”

 

He could see Hermione was interested now – she had never been able to withstand an academic challenge, and this was one with significant potential.

 

“This could change the lives of people who do not have access to all potions today.” Draco added quietly. He knew that was the one argument that would probably convince her. He knew she’d always had a soft spot for those who were vulnerable and needed protection. Her friendships with werewolves, half-giants and house elves were all the evidence he needed.

 

Hermione sighed and buried her hands in her hair.

 

“This is a lot to take in Draco.” she admitted. “As good as this all sounds, how do you envision we work together? Where would we start? Would it just be the two of us? Where and how would we sell these potions? Where would we get Ministry approval to sell some of the restricted potions? I’ve got a million questions!”

 

Draco smirked. He could feel she was seriously considering his offer.

He leaned closer still and softer bumped her shoulder with his. The contact, however minimal, set his nerves on fire.

 

“I can show you my business proposal, the financial plans, the network within the Ministry and Wizengamot I’ve got, the list of potential selling points, … anything you want to convince you. Deep down you know this is the right thing to do. Deep down you know this might be what you really want to do. What you are meant to do for the wizarding world.” he coaxed a bit more. He really needed her on board.

_Come one Hermione, just say yes._

 

“Why work with me? Why not just buy my catalogue, or purchase a license?”

 

_Because I want you. All to myself, in this together._

Draco sighed and leaned back. He avoided her penetrating gaze by staring out of the window. Of course she would get straight to the thing that mattered. She was a smart witch after all. He would have to show her a real piece of himself, reveal more of his vulnerabilities to get her on board.

 

Draco started to roll up the left sleeve of his jumper, until the ugly black tattoo of the infamous skull and snake was visible.

 

“This is why I need you.” He answered. The unfamiliar edge of sadness to his voice made Hermione pause.

 

“All my life decisions were made for me. Wherever I came, there were expectations to fulfil, customs to adhere to… and I never really had a voice, never really had a choice. And now, for the first time ever, I get to decide what my name and my House will mean to the rest of the world. How I want to shape my own life. For the first time, I get to decide who _I_ am.” Draco continued.

 

His silver eyes bore into hers and Draco could only hope she would believe that in this moment, he was as sincere as he’d ever been.

 

“And I need it, Hermione. I really do. I want this to succeed, want to accomplish something for myself and feel good about it.”

 

“But this” he spat, gesturing at his Dark Mark, “this means that people don’t trust me with that chance. Won’t let me have a shot at it. And that’s why I need a Gryffindor lioness.”

 

Draco turned away from Hermione and began to unroll his sleeve again. When he looked up again, Hermione was smiling warmly at him.

 

“Oh Draco, and here I thought you would be quite the strategist.” she laughed.

 

Draco frowned in confusion.

 

“Why would you waste your favour on that? All you had to do was just ask.” Hermione teased and Draco could feel his cheeks heat in embarrassment.

 

“Now,” she continued relentlessly, “I know I should probably sleep on this and weigh all the pro’s and cons like any average-brained person would do… but…” she bit her lip “I like the idea.”

 

Just when Draco thought he’d need more time and arguments to convince her, Hermione baffled him again. He opened his mouth to speak, but she was faster.

 

“Yes, I mean it. And yes, I’m sure. When have I ever not held my word?”

 

She placed her arms on the table and leaned in with a conspiratorial gleam in her eyes.

“What’s more important here is: what’s in it for me?”

 

Draco relaxed a bit more. This was negotiation. This was what he could do, no matter how unpredictable that witch in front of him had been up till now.

 

“And just to be clear from the start:” she continued in that bossy tone he’d heard a hundred times before in class, “I’m not here to be bossed around by you. If this is going to work, it’s going to be an equal partnership.”

 

“It’s my idea, my money, my business.” Draco shot back. Although he was prepared to give her a fair share of the profit and decision-making powers, he could not resist riling her up a bit.

 

And she did not disappoint.

Hermione huffed and flipped her hair back over her shoulder.

“And I bring indispensable knowledge to the table. I want a 50-50 partnership.”

 

Draco chuckled. He should have known she would drive a hard bargain. And honestly, would it be so bad to have her by his side in this as an equal? He knew she would take this serious, give it her all and maybe even listen to him when it came to business experience.

 

“50-50?” Draco said, leaning back in his chair as if contemplating the idea.

 

Hermione stood her ground however, not backing away now.

“50-50 or I find another interested party for my catalogue.”

 

“You wouldn’t.”

 

Hermione arched an eyebrow in challenge.

 

Draco threw his head back and laughed at this.

 

“Oh Granger, that is actually very Slytherin of you.”

 

He bent forward until he was face to face with her and whispered

 

“I like it, partner.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter sneak peak:
> 
> _With a smile that could light up the entire Orangery, she clinked her glass against his in a toast._
> 
> _“To you owing me about 153.000 Galleons.” Hermione laughed, and Draco couldn’t help but grin back._
> 
> _“To us.” He replied, knowing it had a different meaning to him than to her._


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The last day of school has arrived, and as Hermione and Draco truly embark on their business adventure, it seems that Draco has underestimated the power of the name Granger.

 

 

 

 

Hermione was standing in front of the window in her favourite corner of the library. She was looking down, where students were milling about in the courtyard, hugging each other, shaking hands and no doubt making promises to keep in touch.

 

_But soon, they’ll be too busy with their new lives to write, or see each other. It’s a fresh start for everyone._

It gave Hermione a bittersweet feeling. Not even a year ago, Harry and Ron had promised her the same thing as they started their careers, finally able to do what they liked best. And they had not written, not really. The occasional update from Harry, but no word from Ron, despite her letters to him. Hermione guessed he was still angry with her, or simply too busy with moving on with his life to think about her. It had stung in the beginning, but by now that had turned into a disappointed sadness she’d come to accept.

 

And maybe it was better this way. She would make a new start as well.

But she couldn’t help missing her two best friends.

 

“I should have known that you would spend your last moments in Hogwarts in the library.” a voice interrupted her thoughts.

 

Hermione didn’t need to turn around to know who it was or that he probably was smirking at her.

 

“Well, you’re here too, so what does that say about you, hmm?” Hermione shot back amused. His presence lifted her spirits and not for the first time she wondered how much he had changed over the past year.

 

Draco ignored the comment, came to stand next to her and held out a rolled-up piece of parchment.

 

Throwing him a questioning look, Hermione accepted it and rolled it open.

 

There was a beautiful monogram with a stylized ‘KAIZEN’ in the middle. Upon closer look, the border around the monogram resembled a snake.

 

“Kaizen?” Hermione asked, not averting her eyes from the intricate design.

 

“It’s Japanese. Literally it means ‘continuous improvement’. But it is also the Japanese concept of improving personal efficiency and working practices … I thought it would be a good name for our company and the shop, as it is essentially what we will be doing with your catalogue. I didn’t want to go with the traditional last name as many businesses have done before. ‘Malfoy’s’ would not immediately draw the crowd we need, and ‘Granger’s’ would mean we would have to set up a fan area for autographs. So Kaizen it is… if you feel the same of course.” Draco explained. He sounded proud of his choice and Hermione couldn’t but agree.

 

She smiled up at him, handing him back the parchment.

“It’s perfect.”

 

Draco pushed the scroll back to Hermione, his fingers lingering on hers for a second.

“Keep it, it’s yours.”

 

With a nod Hermione tucked the scroll into the pocket of her robes.

 

“Ready for the next step?” Hermione asked, not really wanting him to go yet.

 

Draco sighed and leaned against the window, facing her.

“We don’t really have a choice, do we?”

 

“You could always apply for an internship with Filch. You’d never have to leave Hogwarts again! Might even get to adopt a cat or two!”

 

Draco scowled.

“And to think I want to start a business with you.”

 

Hermione laughed. “Too late now, Draco. We signed the documents!”

 

She saw him give her a half-hearted grin, but it almost felt like he was nervous.

“Will you be going back home?” she dared to ask.

 

Draco nodded.

 

“Oh! Which reminds me: I found a new apartment in a Wizarding community in London and will give you access to the Floo.” Hermione smiled. She was excited, yet a bit nervous to live on her own. When she hadn’t been at Hogwarts, she’d stayed with her parents, at the Burrow or at Harry’s at Grimauld Place.

 

But her parents had sold the house after she’d Obliviated them.

She didn’t feel welcome anymore in the Burrow after her ‘break-up’ with Ron.

And she didn’t want to live with Harry, where Ron probably had a room and Ginny would probably move in shortly as well. She needed someplace where she could relax and wind down, not where she had to bite her tongue, avoid people or awkward conversations and feel like the unwelcome guest.

She knew Harry had been disappointed when she’d written him, but he probably understood. And she did not want to force him to choose between her and Ron.

 

So she’d found her own apartment, in a wizarding neighbourhood in London. She fell in love with it right away, especially with the roofed balcony that served as a patio. She could just picture herself there, curled up with a book, soaking in the rays of sunlight.

She’d purchased the place without a second thought – at least those monetary rewards from the Ministry for her efforts in the war were well spent.

 

She would be moving in this very night and she couldn’t wait.

 

“Good.” Draco nodded. “Let me know where I can find you, so we can discuss particulars soon. I already have made inquiries and have set my lawyers to work to find a suitable shop location. I’m just fine-tuning the specifics for the lab. Maybe you have some suggestions as well?”

 

Hermione opened her mouth, but Draco didn’t give her any opening. “Of course you’ll have suggestions. Just hand me your notebook Granger, and I’ll incorporate them all.”

 

His smirk lighted up his face and Hermione couldn’t help but play along if this was what brightened his mood a bit.

 

“Draco Malfoy!” she swatted at his arm. “You really do underestimate me! I’ll have you know there are at least three notebooks with suggestions.”

 

He cracked a smile at her and gave her a mock-bow.

“Whatever you wish.”

 

“A visit to your library would be nice, now you’re offering.” Hermione shot back.

 

Draco cocked an eyebrow at her.

“I think I’ll keep that for bargaining and bribing purposes later on.”

 

“Then you can at least escort me out of this one.” Hermione suggested and pulled on his arm.

 

Draco tucked her hand under his arm and it made Hermione feel strangely feminine. She hid her blush by looking back at the stacks of books, which had been constant friends throughout the years.

 

And now she was leaving behind her Hogwarts years, on the arm of a very new friend.

 

*

 

Hermione was standing in the middle of her living room, proud of what she had accomplished in just two days. Her apartment truly felt like a home, with a cozy sitting area, open kitchen and of course the necessary bookshelves. Her floor to ceiling windows let in enough light to accentuate the pastels she’d chosen, giving the whole space a warm and inviting glow.

 

A large black owl pecking on her window woke Hermione up from her daydream. She quickly let him in, untied the small scroll the animal was carrying and sent it back off with a little treat.

 

_Hermione,_

_As mentioned before, I’m finishing the plans for the potions lab._

_If it would suit you, you are welcome to Floo to the Manor’s Orangery to discuss._

_Draco._

A nervous tingle spread inside Hermione’s belly. It was becoming very real now, their business. Because once they’d set up their lab and started producing, the next step would be opening a shop and selling their products. And from there, it was out of their hands.

 

Hermione was nervous and at the same time anxious to get started. Although she felt like she was jumping into the unknown, Draco’s confidence must have rubbed off on her a little bit.

 

The only thing she dreaded was telling her friends. Harry had surprised her by turning up at King’s Cross when she arrived back from Hogwarts. Before she’d even registered he was actually there, she’d been enveloped in a big hug. And it had felt good, like coming home. She didn’t care that everyone was staring at the Chosen One and his Muggle best friend, or that the cameras were flashing and there would be headlines spinning untruths the next day. All that mattered is that Harry had made time to welcome her back.

 

She’d felt a pang of disappointment at the absence of Ron, but deep down she knew that was too much too hope for. Ron could hold a grudge if he wanted to, and he would not have this first meeting with her since last summer in public.

 

However, she’d felt even more disappointed to notice that Draco had walked off without so much as saying goodbye. While Harry was collecting her trunk, Hermione was trying to spot the platinum blond head. But she couldn’t find him anywhere and somehow, that hurt a bit.

 

Harry had dragged her along, taking her to her favourite Muggle restaurant before asking her the dreaded question: where she would be staying tonight in case her own place wasn’t ready yet.

 

Hermione knew he was still hoping she would join him at Grimauld’s. And somewhere, Hermione loved Harry for trying to make everyone in his life get along with each other. But she knew that getting her own place was the right decision and she’d invited Harry to come and see the apartment straight away.

 

She’d immediately opened up the Floo for him – even if that meant that other people at Grimauld’s had access too. He’d left her with a big smile and a promise to catch up soon.

 

During that whole evening, Hermione had not once mentioned Draco or the business partnership she now had with him.

Even though she knew Harry would stick by her side, she was avoiding the topic out of fear for the reaction of their friends. Would they understand? Would they support her fully?

 

Hermione felt that after all she’d been through, she was mature and smart enough to make her own decisions. And no one should doubt them or her judgment. With that thought, she’d set up her bed and fallen asleep almost immediately.

 

Right now, after two days of silence, Draco had contacted her and they were about to start their new venture. Hermione reread the short note again. This was getting as real as it could get, and she burst with nervous excitement.

 

Inspecting her clothing – a snug pair of jeans and a loose white blouse – she deemed it good enough for a quick visit to Malfoy. Not bothering to send a reply first, she grabbed some Floo powder, tossed it into the fire and disappeared with a swirl and a shout.

 

“Malfoy Manor Orangery!”

 

*

 

“Oh!”

 

Whatever she had expected of the Orangery, it certainly wasn’t this.

To be honest, she hadn’t given it a single thought at all – or else she might not have set foot on the Manor’s grounds again. That horrid memory was still too fresh and still caused her to wake up in the middle of the night, sweating and clutching at her arm.

 

The building she’d landed in was spacious, light due to the gorgeous glass wall on the right and had a homely warm atmosphere. Even though the Orangery seemed to consist of one big room and was not furnished at all, it breathed lightness and elegance. Not something she would associate with the dark, old and stiff Manor.

 

Her gasp drew the attention of Draco, who was standing further down the room. He spun around with a surprised look on his face.

 

“I hadn’t expected you so soon.” he hastily said as he walked up to her, the morning light reflecting off his platinum hair. Hermione caught herself staring and quickly dusted off her clothes to give herself something to do.

 

“Have I interrupted something?” she asked, suddenly doubting her hasty arrival instead of sending own owl first.

 

“No, no, not at all.” Draco quickly reassured her, gesturing wildly with his hands. “Now is as good as any moment.”

 

He stopped right in front of her and carefully plucked a stray piece of ash out of her messy bun.

With an apologetic smile, as if he just caught himself doing this, he quickly put some distance between them again.

Draco strode backwards and spread out his arms.

 

“What do you think?”

 

Hermione bit her lip.

“I’m not sure…”

 

His proud face fell a bit before he composed himself.

 

“It’s just that I assumed that it would be more practical to have a lab close to or even inside the shop.” Hermione explained, slowly walking around and gazing out of the floor to ceiling windows.

 

At Draco’s silence, she faced him again.

 

“Don’t you think so?”

 

Draco shrugged and buried his hands in his pockets.

“I figured we could already set up the lab and start working while preparations for the shop are made.”

 

Hermione nodded thoughtfully at that.

“Do you already have a location in mind? Are we renting or buying?”

 

Draco continued avoiding her gaze and stared at the tips of his polished shoes.

“My lawyers are working on that. We’re mainly looking at locations in Diagon Alley as it still is the main shopping area, preferably to buy so we do not depend on anyone else’s whims.”

 

“And have you found anything yet? Just the other day, I noticed that that plant shop from across Fortescue’s had a sign up. The shopkeepers are an elderly couple so I assume they’ll be retiring from their business. Have you looked into that? The location would be ideal.” Hermione pressed on.

 

Draco was being a bit too evasive for her liking and she couldn’t help but feel there were things he wasn’t telling her.

 

Draco looked up at her and sighed.

“We’ve already contacted them, they’re not willing to sell.”

 

Hermione’s eyebrows rose in astonishment.

“But… the sign was just up there two days ago! Why in the world wouldn’t they want to sell? The price should not be an issue, right? I mean, I don’t know the particulars, but the words ‘Malfoy’ and ‘filthy rich’ kind of fit together like Goblins and gold.”

 

By the way Draco’s jaw was tensing Hermione knew something was bothering him greatly. But damn it, she owned half of the company here! And that meant that he owed her the full truth when it came to that.

 

“Draco, why don’t they want to sell?”

 

He shook his head.

“We’ll find something else. Something better.”

 

Hermione was getting irritated and closed the distance with a few determined strides, until he was forced to look at her.

“I’m your partner here Draco. It’s my business too.” she almost snapped.

“Why don’t they want to sell?”

 

Draco ran his hand through his hair in frustration, and in any other moment, Hermione would probably have taken a second to admire his tousled locks. But she was too focused on wringing out the truth from him.

 

“Because they want nothing to do with Malfoy money! Filthy rich indeed!” Draco finally spat out.

 

Whatever she had expected, it was not this.

“And under the company’s name…?”

 

“They somehow figured out who is funding it all.” Draco sighed.

 

“Don’t worry,” he said as he put a hand on her shoulder, but it felt more like he was reassuring himself than Hermione, “we’ll find something else.”

 

With a huff, Hermione turned around again and strode back to the fireplace.

 

“Where are you going?”

 

Hermione could have been fooled, but there was a slight hint of panic to his voice. As if he expected her to walk away from their business. Away from him.

 

Hermione threw him her most charming smile over her shoulder.

 

“Let’s see if they can refuse selling their place to the one and only Hermione Granger of the Golden Trio.”

 

She tossed the Floo Power into the fire, shouted “Leaky Cauldron!” and was gone.

 

*

 

It was hours later when the Orangery’s fireplace roared to life again.

 

Even though he should have known not to doubt Hermione once she’d set her mind on something, her appearance startled him nonetheless.

 

He’d ordered the House Elves to bring up a desk and a chair for him, so he could continue working while he waited for Hermione. Draco figured that if she would return, she’d come straight to the Orangery, and so he kept himself busy while he waited.

 

There were so many things to do, even with the help of his lawyers. There were things he absolutely wanted to take care of himself: ordering the lab’s equipment and potion supplies. Writing to the few contacts Severus had provided for the more rare ingredients.

And then there was the taking care of the Malfoy Estate, the old businesses, the informants, … . Being the Head of the House was exhausting, but it needed to be done and the sooner he was finished with cleaning up after his father, the more he could concentrate on his own project.

 

As morning turned into noon, there still was no sign of Hermione. There also weren’t any reports on sudden riots at Diagon Alley, so he assumed nothing had gone wrong.

 

So he diligently continued working on his towering stack of letters, contracts and notes, until she appeared on the Malfoy grounds again, a big grin plastered to her face.

 

As she walked – more like skipped – up to his desk, she was waving a scroll in the air and holding a bottle of what looked like champagne in the other.

 

“Congratulations!” she sing-songed. Had she been sipping that bottle already?

“At the end of the summer, we will be the proud owners of a wonderful four-story shop in the heart of Britain’s wizarding shopping district.”

 

Draco stood and reached out to read the scroll, but Hermione just continued on, twirled around his desk and spontaneously wrapped her arms around him in a hug.

 

Draco froze, overwhelmed by the sudden softness and scent of her that seemed to wrap around him like a warm blanket. Realising he was acting like a foll, he gently lifted his arms and carefully hugged her back. It felt a bit awkward to him, but at the same time he had to fight the urge to pull her flush against his body and bury his face in her neck. Salazar, she smelled so good! He closed his eyes and detected jasmin, amber and a hint of vanilla. It made his mouth water and his nerves tingle. He wanted to breathe her in, press his lips to her scented skin.

_What would it be like to wake up to that smell sticking to his pillow?_

 

Before he could get carried away, Hermione had let go of him again. She put down the scroll on the desk and proceeded to open the champagne bottle with a swift flick of her wand.

 

To give himself a moment to compose himself, Draco grabbed the scroll and unrolled the parchments.

As his eyes scanned over the first page, he noticed that Hermione had purchased the building in her own name. The second parchment was a deed that transferred ownership from Hermione to their company.

 

While his lawyers had been working on this for days with no satisfying result to report back to him, Hermione had accomplished it all within a few hours. _Golden Trio indeed._

 

He looked up with admiration in his eyes as she offered him a glass of champagne. He noticed it was a Muggle brand, but didn’t object. Good drinks were good drinks after all.

 

With a smile that could light up the entire Orangery, she clinked her glass against his in a toast.

 

“To you owing me about 153.000 Galleons.” Hermione laughed, and Draco couldn’t help but grin back.

 

“To us.” He replied, knowing it had a different meaning to him than to her.

 

“To working together as partners.” Hermione couldn’t resist and Draco nodded his head in concession.

Partners indeed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter sneak peak:
> 
> _“ItsDracoMalfoy.” she murmured._
> 
> _Harry dropped his fork._
> 
> _“Come again?”_
> 
> _“Draco Malfoy.” Hermione said with a small voice, not daring to look up._


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's time for Hermione to share her new project with her friends, but how will they react?  
> Meanwhile, a plan to expand the business leads to an unexpected, and maybe unwanted encounter.

**And I am feeling so small**  
**It was over my head**  
**I know nothing at all**

 

_[Say Something - A Great Big World]_

 

 

**_____________________________________________**

 

 

 

“I’ve been looking forward to this all day!” Harry exclaimed as he attacked his stew as if he’d not eaten in days. Which was impossible when involved in the Weasley family.

 

Hermione grinned before starting on her own fish and chips. Not much could ruin her mood now she’d finally been able to get ahold of Harry to catch up.

 

While he’d been busy with his job as an Auror – long weekends and missions all over the UK were no exception –, she’d been diligently working on her catalogue to adapt it to it’s use for Kaizen. As the basic algorithms were already there, it was just a matter of tweaking the calculations and more importantly, feeding the catalogue thousands upon thousands of pages of potions books. Draco had been providing her with a steady stream of potions and herbology books from the Malfoy library, sending them in packages of 100 books a time. Hermione was amazed that every time she returned a package, Draco or one of his House Elves left her a new one. By now there must be close to 1500 books in her catalogue already, and Draco kept them coming.

 

As Hermione still wasn’t comfortable going into the actual Manor itself – the Orangery was the maximum her nerves could endure – it might not have been the most efficient way to exchange the books. But as much as Hermione was dying to explore the infamous Malfoy library, she wasn’t ready to deal with that yet.

 

Without having to bring it up, Draco had understood and proposed himself to arrange something else. Hermione was grateful for that, and the panic attacks that were avoided that way.

 

Between their busy schedules, it was a wonder Harry and Hermione had found an opening for an early supper.

It felt like they hadn’t been able to properly catch up for a long time.

On top of that, being separated from the Weasley clan also meant not hearing anything from that side anymore.

 

Hermione didn’t like contemplating how lonely she often was without her friends.

 

“So,” Harry begun after he’d swallowed his first few bites. “A little bird told me that you’ve recently purchased a shop?”

 

Hermione blushed. She hadn’t even told Harry or Ron about the business venture, leave alone the fact that she was working with Draco. While she figured that in time, Harry would understand and get over it for her sake, she wasn’t so sure about Ron.

While it had hurt that he’d considered them over when she’d decided to return to Hogwarts, it would leave her most certainly heartbroken should he decide to break off their friendship as well. Despite the silence from his side for almost a year now, Hermione still held hope that now that she was back, they could become closer friends again. Just hang out now and then, without making things awkward.

 

“That is correct. However, I’ve sold the place again.” Maybe she could postpone telling Harry about this. Maybe she could enjoy the quiet for a bit longer just yet.

 

“And?” Harry probed. “To whom did you sell? And why buy in the first place then?”

 

Hermione sighed and put down her fork.

“It’s complicated Harry…”

 

“Then explain Hermione. Come on. I’m your best friend – you can tell me anything.”

 

_Not everything Harry, not everything._

“I’ve sold it to Kaizen, a potions company.”

 

“Never heard of them.”

 

“It’s a brand new company.”

 

“And how come you know them? Potions isn’t exactly your field, I thought Arithmancy was the subject you wanted to get a Mastery in.”

 

“Well yeah… not really anymore.” Hermione mumbled. “I’m the co-owner of the company.”

 

Harry gaped at her in shock.

“You own a company?? Wow Hermione, this is huge!”

 

“SHHH!” Hermione shushed him. “Not so loud. It’s all still very new.”

 

Harry narrowed his eyes at her.

“There is something you’re not telling me. I can see all your nervous habits popping up: lip biting, excessive pushing back locks behind your ear…. Hermione? Who else is part of this company, Coyzen?”

 

“Kaizen.” Hermione corrected out of habit.

“ItsDracoMalfoy.” she murmured.

 

Harry dropped his fork.

“Come again?”

 

“Draco Malfoy.” Hermione said with a small voice, not daring to look up.

 

Harry let out a big sigh.

 

“Harry,” Hermione began, but Harry held up his hand.

 

“Hermione, you don’t have to justify your choices to me. You never had to. Not with me.”

 

Hermione exhaled in relief. There was a chance that this could go right, that she would keep her best friend.

 

“I will not pretend to understand this choice, or agree with the fact that it’s _him_ of all people. In fact, I’m shocked that it’s him. Gods Hermione!”

 

Harry breathed in and out for a moment, clearly composing himself. His fingers raked through his already mess of hair as he sighed.

“But we haven’t really seen each other for almost a year. And I know things have changed, we all have changed. So I’m going to blindly trust you here and assume that he has too.”

 

Hermione jumped up, rounded the table and crushed Harry in a hasty hug.

 

“Thank you.” she whispered, desperately trying to keep her tears at bay.

 

Harry chuckled and patted her back.

“Anytime Hermione, anytime.”

 

Hermione returned to her seat, relief written all over her face.

 

“Now tell me more about this, business woman!” Harry smiled.

 

*

 

“I still can’t believe you’ve actually gone and bought this place.” Harry exclaimed as he inspected the building in front of him.

 

After they’d finished at the restaurant, Harry had insisted Hermione show him the shop that soon would be hers. Well, partially hers.

 

She felt proud as she explained to him what their concept was, what her vision of the shop was and how she hoped that they soon would start working on improving potions. Her dream of providing access to medicine for people and creatures who right now did not have that chance was within her grasp. She couldn’t help the brilliant smile on her face.

 

And Harry seemed to be happy for her, accepting that her choice truly would make her happy.

 

“Harry!” a very familiar voice sounded behind them.

 

Harry and Hermione both spun around simultaneously and came face to face with none other than Ron.

 

“Hermione?” he added, almost sounding insecure.

 

“Hi.” she answered, a bit more reserved than she was used to with her friends.

 

“Ron!” Harry jovially threw his arm around his shoulder, but Hermione knew he was only trying to easy the tension that had become palpable within seconds. Harry hated conflict, and even more so between the two people who’d been his first and best friends.

 

“Finished up the rounds Robards scheduled for you?” he inquired.

 

“Yeah.” Ron nodded absentmindedly. It was clear he didn’t know what to say to Hermione.

 

So he went for the safe option and turned to Harry again.

“Do you have any plans tonight? I’m on my way to the Leaky – meeting up with some of the guys. You want to join us?”

 

Harry frowned, not really wanting to abandon Hermione, but also not wanting to reject Ron.

 

Hermione, just like old times, made the decision for him.

“Why don’t you go ahead Harry, we’re finished here at the shop. I’ll show you the inside another time.”

 

Ron turned towards her, brow crinkling in confusion now.

“Shop? Are you opening up a shop?”

 

Nervously Hermione nodded her head.

 

Harry, getting the hint that Hermione did not want to go into the particulars with Ron at this very moment, in the middle of Diagon Alley, pulled at Ron’s arm.

 

“Come on mate, we’ll head down to the Leaky then, wouldn’t want to miss the first round.”

 

But Ron didn’t budge. He knew Harry and Hermione well enough to know that Hermione was hiding something and that Harry was trying to distract him.

 

“What is it that I cannot know?” he inquired, eyes boring into Hermione’s.

 

“Ron…” she started, but he shushed her with a gesture of his hand.

 

“Don’t lie to me Hermione – you were never any good at that anyway.”

 

His voice sounded harsh and a bit too loud, and people around them were slowing their pace, curiously looking at the Golden Trio who seemed to have a not so golden conversation at the moment.

 

“Ron, can we not do this here, right now?” Hermione gritting her teeth. She did not need a scene and pleaded with her eyes to halt the way this conversation was rapidly spiraling out of control.

 

“You know what? Yes! Let’s keep Ron in the dark. Wouldn’t be the first time I’m being excluded from your little schemes.” Ron snapped back. His face and ears were getting red, a clear sign that his was working himself up and was about to explode.

 

Any hope Hermione had had about easily going back to the way they used to be after their year of separation, vanished in that instant. It was clear that Ron still felt very much rejected by her and that he might not even have gotten over everything that had happened during their year on the run.

 

“Ron, come on. Let’s go.” Harry insisted, pulling him backwards by his shoulder. “People are watching.”

 

That woke Ron up. He seemed to realise that they were about to start a big argument in the middle of the street, with an audience that was all too interested.

 

He looked back at Hermione and she felt herself shrink under his condescending gaze. Even though she should be mad with him, furious even for behaving like this, she knew it wouldn’t help diffuse the situation. And just like when they were little kids, he could hit her where it hurt the most. He made her doubt herself, made her stumble, trampled all over her… and even though she should know better, she let him. It made her angry and impossibly sad. Made her long for the days when things were simpler between them.

 

So she let Harry pull Ron along, shrugged at him not to worry about her and quickly Disapparated back to her apartment. Only then did she allow her tears to spill freely.

 

*

 

‘LOVERS QUARRELL IN THE MIDDLE OF THE STREET – IS THE GOLDEN TRIO BECOMING A GOLDEN DUO??’

 

As ridiculous as the headline of the Daily Prophet sounded, Draco couldn’t resist unfolding the paper to read the article and look at the pictures.

 

As usual, the piece didn’t reveal too much, only speculating about the clash between Hermione and the Weasel, Potter being forced to intervene. While he didn’t want to believe the gossip about the alleged two lovebirds and while the Weasel’s glare in the picture spoke volumes, Draco still felt a pang of… what was it? Worry? Jealousy? _No, not that. Never jealousy towards the Weasel._

 

He wondered whether Hermione had seen the paper yet, and whether it still bothered her to read these kind of articles about her.

 

He was about to take a sip from his tea, when the silent arrival of his House Elf Radok interrupted his breakfast.

 

Draco lifted an eyebrow in question at him.

 

“Master demanded to be informed of any unwanted guests at the Manor. Radok is informing the Master right now that a Misses has arrived at the Orangery.” the House Elf bowed.

 

Astonished, Draco put down his cup harder than intended.

_Hermione._

 

She was the only one he’d granted access to the Orangery’s Floo. Her, and his mother, but the latter would never go there and was still travelling around to visit family on the continent. She would have notified him prior to her arrival, expecting a welcome committee.

 

“Thank you Radok, I’ll be along straight away.”

 

Draco stood up, quickly dabbed at his mouth with his napkin and nodded to the elf to touch him and transport him straight to the other side of the Manor grounds.

 

Radok left his side and disappeared the moment Draco landed in the Orangery. If he had startled Hermione with his sudden arrival, she didn’t show.

 

“Good morning. I hope I didn’t disturb your morning routine too much.” she greeted as she hurried towards him, carrying a little handbag with her.

 

Upon closer inspection, she looked horrible. Her eyes were red and swollen – from crying would be his best guess. She looked a bit pale as well, but what was most strange, was the eager smile that was plastered on her face.

 

“No, not at all. There wasn’t much noteworthy in the paper today anyway.” he replied, knowing she might not want to broach that subject, but still wanting to know how she was dealing with it.

 

Hermione cleared her throat. _Shit. Wrong subject Draco!_

 

“No, there really wasn’t.” she replied a bit tersely.

 

“To what do I owe the pleasure?” Draco decided to change the subject, as she clearly did not want to elaborate on the incident with the Weasel.

 

“It actually has to do with this.” Hermione grinned again, Prophet headlines already forgotten as she pointed at her own face.

 

“You?” Draco guessed, not wanting to be rude and comment on how puffy her eyes looked. He wondered if she even cared about her appearance right now and it somehow warmed his heart to know that she didn’t bother to look her most perfect whenever she was around him. He wasn’t used to this – Pureblood girls were so unlike her, but he guessed that was part of the charm. Hermione was different, a breath of fresh air.

 

“Yes. See, I woke up this morning like this.” Hermione continued, gesturing at her eyes and their puffiness.

“And I wondered, what can I do to look presentable again?”

 

Draco, knowing from experience that answering that question was as good as suicide when it came to women, said nothing and nodded along. He followed her with his eyes as she walked around the room, lost in her explanation.

 

“And then it dawned on me, that all witches probably have their own secret beauty charms and potions, passed on from mother to daughter. I remember Ginny mentioning it once, how the Prewetts used to have more family charms and the Weasleys…. nevermind. But none of it is easily available! They probably take time and practice to perfect, even if one has access to the actual knowledge.”

 

Draco tried to follow her train of thought but didn’t see where she was going with this.

She looked at him expectantly and he just nodded along.

 

“True, most Houses have their own secrets and family spells. No doubt there are some of the cosmetical kind as well.” he confirmed.

 

“This is our chance Draco! Think!” Hermione continued, beyond excited. “There is a huge potential there! What if we developed a beauty line, with products that were easy to obtain, easy to use and with foolproof results?”

 

Draco watched her with barely concealed amusement. He liked seeing her getting all fired up like this. And the fact that for once it wasn’t because he’d been riling her up, but because of their business and the huge market potential she was seeing… well, it felt good.

 

She was practically bouncing on the balls of her feet out of excitement, going on about products and marketing and owl-orders for teenage girls – and why not boys too? Large volumes that would decrease production costs and prices.

 

“Alright, alright.” Draco intervened. “We’ll do it. Try it out in the lab and see where this goes.”

 

Hermione turned to him and gave him a brilliant smile, one that made his heart beat a bit faster.

He wished he was the cause of such a smile more often.

 

“When do we start?” she inquired.

 

“When? The question is rather with whom.” Draco smirked at her.

 

“What do you mean?” came the confused reply.

 

“With my mother of course.” Draco grinned at her shocked expression.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter sneak peak:
> 
> _“Hi.” she finally replied, and as his eyes were shining with barely hidden mirth at her flushed cheeks, decided to just own up to her staring._
> 
> _“Nice suit.”_
> 
> _“Thanks,” he nodded gracefully – how was everything he did so fucking graceful and poised?_
> 
> _“Can’t appear in front of my mother, bringing along a girl for the first time without looking my best, now can I?”_
> 
> _“First time?” Hermione asked incredulously._
> 
> _Draco shot her a grimace, probably regretting his little quip._
> 
> _“When would I have had an opportunity before?”_


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dun-dun-duuun: Hermione meets Narcissa and has an offer she just can't refuse. And Draco... well, he's the flawless gentleman as ever :)

Hermione smoothed her skirt for what must be the third time since she’d arrived at the Ministry.

If that didn’t give her nervosity away, the furious lip-biting certainly did.

 

She knew she was early, but she didn’t dare contemplate the idea of being late to _this_ appointment.

 

When Draco had proposed to meet his mother, Hermione’s first instinct had been to yell ‘Hell no’ and scoff. She had no intention at all to meet up with a woman who until recently, had looked down at her as if she was lower than dirt. _Mudblood._

 

As if Draco had anticipated this, he’d immediately shushed her with a curt gesture of his hand and his eyes had betrayed a slight hint of something that felt in between annoyance and disappointment. Hermione didn’t know why, but it made her hold her tongue.

 

And looking back at it more rationally, she understood that Draco had taken her idea of the beauty-line seriously and really was trying to give them the best start they could have by consulting his mother, the epitome of a Pureblood beauty queen.

However, in that very moment, in her emotional and sleep deprived state, logic was the furthest from Hermione’s mind.

 

Surely there must be other, better ways to obtain the guarded family knowledge they were seeking than meeting up with the Malfoy matriarch? Surely there was no reason for Hermione to be there and face the woman who, just a year ago, had stood by and done nothing while a monster resided in her own damn house and an innocent girl had been tortured there. _Isn’t that exactly what Draco had done too? Stand by and do nothing?_

Hermione knew it was not fair to think of them this way, because honestly, what could they have done anyway that would not have resulted in more pointless deaths? But it didn’t mean that she had to look forward to meeting Narcissa Malfoy.

 

Unconsciously Hermione scratched the place where Bellatrix’ scar was hidden under a Glamour charm. With a grim scoff, Hermione figured she could try and make a profit out of that – after all, she’d become an expert at these kind of charms.

 

“Hello.” Draco’s familiar drawl startled her out of her wandering thoughts.

 

Hermione looked up and had to admit that he’d cleaned up very nicely. He was wearing a formal charcoal grey three-piece suit, completely with grey shirt and slim tie. His equally dark grey robes were draped casually over his arm.

 

Realising she was staring at him and a sly smirk was beginning to lift the corner of his mouth, she quickly composed herself and smoothed her skirt again to give herself something to do. That still didn’t prevent her from blushing slightly.

 

“Hi.” she finally replied, and as his eyes were shining with barely hidden mirth at her flushed cheeks, decided to just own up to her staring.

“Nice suit.”

 

“Thanks,” he nodded gracefully – _how was everything he did so fucking graceful and poised?_

“Can’t appear in front of my mother, bringing along a girl for the first time without looking my best, now can I?”

 

“First time?” Hermione asked incredulously.

 

Draco shot her a grimace, probably regretting his little quip.

“When would I have had an opportunity before?”

 

Of course. By the time he had been old enough to actually bring home someone, he had been too busy trying to keep himself and his family alive from a madman who was living in his house. And after the war… Hermione supposed his mother had had other priorities than hosting tea parties for Pureblood girlfriends. Thinking of it, Hermione couldn’t just picture Draco strolling in with a girl on his arm, introducing her to his parents and declaring they were seeing each other. Her guess was that it would have been the other way around: his parents introducing his future wife to him over tea. That’s what traditional Purebloods had always done. Still did probably.

 

 _But you’re not his girlfriend_. That nagging little voice again. Hermione quickly shut that down.

 

As the silence between them carried on for a bit too long, Hermione fidgeted with her dress again.

 

Draco seemed to notice and softly folded his hands around her elbows, as if he wanted to steady her.

 

“You look beautiful.” he reassured her.

“I understand completely if you do not want to go after…”

 

Hermione shook her head quickly.

“No, no. It’s fine. I said I’d go and I’ll keep my word. It’s just… I’m just not used to this.”

 

Draco had owled her during the week that his mother had requested for them to meet up in a tearoom in Paris. Hermione had not known what to think of that, but had simply accepted the invitation. Then worry had struck: she would be meeting Narcissa Malfoy, the queen bee of Pureblood society. The Lady of the House Malfoy. The woman who had coldly watched while Hermione had been tortured by her sister, but who had then lied straight to Voldemort’s noseless face to save Harry. _Draco’s mother._

What could she expect from this meeting? What did she even have to wear to such an occasion?

 

A frantic dive into her closet had left her with barely any options, and Hermione had decided to go shopping for something appropriate on a whim. She never did these kind of things on a whim – she was that much out of her comfort zone.

In the end, she had opted for a classic navy-blue dress with an elegant boat neck that accentuated her in all the right places. She had decided to keep her look simple, taming her hair into a more or less straight low ponytail and keeping her make-up to the bare minimum.

She believed she looked nice enough for a formal afternoon tea.

 

And then Draco went and called her beautiful. _Beautiful._

Hermione tried to think of an occasion where someone had given her such a compliment. She couldn’t think of one. Pretty, yes (that’s as far as Ron went). Lovely, yes (thanks dad). Really good – yes (Harry and his ways around girls, bless him). But never beautiful. Never in that soft, reassuring voice, as if it was seldomly used to describe someone else that way.

 

“You’ll be fine. And I’m here to guide you through the etiquette, alright?” Draco attempted to lighten the mood. “It’s quite easy really: low curtsey when you meet my mother, never looking her straight in the eye, not speaking unless you are spoken to, always without question obeying the man present when he- HEY!”

 

Hermione had poked him in the ribs at his jesting, and Draco threw her his most charming lopesided smile. It made him look boyish and made her heart flutter.

 

“From what I understand from etiquette, it is not done to keep the hostess waiting.” Hermione shot back, tempted to stick out her tongue.

 

“There’s such a thing as being fashionably late.” Draco played along.

 

Hermione cocked one eyebrow at him in disbelief. As if a mama’s boy like Draco would dare to keep his mother waiting.

 

“Yes, fine. Let’s go. Portkeys to Paris to the right, madam.” Draco grumbled, but Hermione could see him trying not to smirk.

 

*

 

Hermione had expected the tearoom to be chic, but she hadn’t expected this air of exclusivity.

 

She was glad Draco seemed familiar with the establishment, because concentrating on not gawking and starting to fiddle with her dress – _again_ \- was the only thing she could do at the moment.

 

The waiter led them over to a private room upstairs, where a small round table for three had been set up next to the open doors of the balcony. Narcissa, dressed impeccably as ever, was standing next to it, looking outside but turning around immediately upon hearing Draco and Hermione approach.

 

“Draco darling.” Narcissa sighed and Hermione could see that the smile gracing her perfectly painted lips was a genuine one.

 

Draco stepped forward and give his mother an affectionate kiss on her cheek.

“You look as stunning as ever, mother. France clearly has done you well.” he complimented.

 

Narcissa smiled at her son again, caressing his cheek with one hand.

“You look better as well darling.”

 

She then turned to Hermione, taking on a more formal pose again.

 

“Good afternoon Miss Granger.”

 

Hermione did suppress the urge to curtsey – Narcissa truly did look like a queen granting her an audience.

Instead, she simply smiled and extended her hand in greeting.

“It is nice to meet you, Lady Malfoy. Thank you for inviting us.”

 

For a moment, Narcissa hesitated before gently but swiftly shaking Hermione’s hand. It felt like she wasn’t used to it and Hermione wondered whether Pureblood women had a different way of greeting each other.

Too late now anyway.

 

“Let us sit.” Narcissa waved towards the table.

 

Draco, ever with his perfect manners, drew back his mother’s chair for her. After she was seated, he proceeded to do the same for Hermione.

 

Hermione took her place on Narcissa’s left as gracefully as she could. And while Draco let her settle in, his hands lingered on the back of her chair, barely touching her exposed neck. It made Hermione’s hairs stand on end and she suppressed a shiver.

 

If Draco noticed, he did not let it show as he seated himself to Hermione’s left and Narcissa’s right.

 

On cue, teapots, a tea selection and various little tartes and desserts appeared on the table.

 

Narcissa enjoyed watching her son indulgently as he prepared her tea just the way she liked it. Apparently another custom Hermione wasn’t used to. She felt a little bit out of place, not knowing what to expect. Would he be serving her as well? Did he even know how she took her tea?

 

Hermione decided not to wait for him to serve her – somehow she found that quite embarrassing – and selected her own drink and nibbles.

 

Aside from a flicker of confusion in Draco’s eyes, Hermione didn’t notice any reaction from him at this, so she decided that she just wouldn’t care. Because damnit, she wasn’t a Pureblood girl trained for these kind of occasions.

 

Adding some honey to her tea, Hermione wondered if she was supposed to start a conversation or wait for Narcissa to take the lead. She was so out of her element that she truly did not know whether some small talk would be appreciated.

 

Fortunately, Draco saved her from making a faux-pas by inquiring after his mother’s time in France.

Hermione paid attention to Narcissa’s replies, trying to get a feel for the character of Draco’s mother. While on the outside she was the confident society lady with perfect manners, a flawless fashionable look and a polite but proud attitude, when it came to her son, she transformed into someone who reminded her of Mrs. Weasley. The way she looked at Draco and interacted with him spoke volumes. This clearly was a mother who would do anything for her only child and who, truth be told, had done just about everything for him. Lying straight to Voldemort’s face – Hermione did not think she’d have the guts for it. Defying everything she’d ever been taught by sticking up for her boy, which led them right to this very moment, where a Pureblood Lady was having tea with a Muggleborn witch.

_We’ve both come quite far already._

 

So when Narcissa turned to Hermione, she was able to push her prejudices about Draco’s parents aside just enough to at least have an honest conversation with her.

 

“Draco has told me about the business you’re both setting up.” Narcissa started, her sharp gaze taking in Hermione and not missing a single detail.

 

Hermione nodded.

 

“He also explained to me this idea you have to revolutionise the beauty industry for witches. I cannot deny that that certainly peaked my curiosity.”

 

For a second, Hermione caught Draco’s eyes. He simply inclined his head, leaving this conversation to Hermione herself. And for that, she was grateful.

 

Hermione carefully put down her teacup and turned towards Narcissa.

 

“Correct. I believe there is a huge potential when it comes to easily accessible cosmetic solutions for witches. Ideally, we would like to set up a beauty line with ready-to-use products which aren’t too expensive. Maybe a more luxurious and exclusive line would be a possibility as well. Right now, I have the feeling that a lot of this particular knowledge is closely guarded by the traditional wizarding Houses, passed on within the family only.”

 

Narcissa’s silence at this confirmed that Hermione’s and Draco’s guess had been correct. She decided to be bold and address the heart of the subject straight away.

 

“For this to work however, we would need access to at least some of these potion recipes and charms.”

 

“I see.” Narcissa replied. Her tone of voice did not give away anything and Hermione realised she would have to work for getting what she wanted. She glanced at Draco again, who was just sitting back and observing the situation. He did not seem to feel inclined to interfere, but rather let Hermione deal with this herself.

 

_Alright, flattery it will be then._

“Lady Malfoy, from what I understand, you have always been the leading lady of wizarding society. Witches associate timeless elegance and flawless beauty with that. We all know more than one article in Witch Weekly has been dedicated to you in the past.”

 

Noticing that she now had Narcissa’s undivided attention, Hermione continued.

 

“Knowing Draco and myself, we will not settle for anything but the best. The products we will sell, the reputation of our company, … it has to be nothing but stellar. The best there is. We will be leading this market. We will provide the must-haves. We will set the trends. And that is why we turn to you. If you would allow us, we would love to use your family’s knowledge to develop our beauty products.”

 

“You want to get your inspiration from the books that only ever have been passed down from mother to daughter, knowledge that never before has been shared outside the family?” Narcissa inquired.

 

Drawing upon her Gryffindor bravery, Hermione squared her shoulders, confidently lifted her chin a hair and looked Narcisse straight in the eye.

 

“No.” Hermione replied.

 

While Narcissa hardly batted an eye at her response, Draco’s eyebrows flew up in astonishment.

Before he could react, Hermione continued.

 

“Ideally, I would want your books, your knowledge, your experience and your personal touch to it. I would want to consult you on where we could start, how we should market this, how we should present this… I may have a lot of knowledge from my side, but I don’t want to enter the market blindly when it comes to Pureblood clientele.”

 

Although Narcissa didn’t say anything, Hermione could see that from the way she was leaning forward and from the warmer glint in her eyes that the matriarch was interested.

 

Hermione could imagine that while no doubt Narcissa was a busy society woman, the damage of aligning with Voldemort could not be underestimated either. She knew very well that Narcissa currently did not hold the power she once had, and that just maybe the woman would be interested in supporting her own son in this venture. It certainly would give her a new sense of purpose and a whole new sort of standing within wizarding society. Maybe not the same position she once held as Lady Malfoy, but she certainly would get some renewed respect in the beauty world. And this time it would not be because she had married into the right House, but rather because of her own contributions. If Narcissa was anything like Draco, she would see the opportunity to redeem herself as well and would demand and deliver nothing but perfection.

 

Narcissa continued seizing up Hermione, weighing the options. She did not consult Draco, but then again, Draco would not have brought along Hermione if he didn’t support the idea.

 

Hermione could feel Draco’s eyes on her as well but refused to look his way.

She held her breath and refrained from biting her lip. Maybe she had to give Narcissa a little bit more, one more thing to convince her.

 

“Also, I would like the beauty line to carry your name.”

 

This time Narcisse did not conceal her astonishment.

 

“The Malfoy name? I hardly think that would be the right choice.” Narcissa finally replied, a hard edge to her voice.

 

“No,” Hermione corrected, “ _your_ name. Black.”

 

Narcissa calmly picked up her cup, took a delicate sip and returned it to her plate.

She then cocked her head to the side as if contemplating the idea.

 

“Black Beauty. It quite had a ring to it.”

 

Hermione bit her lip this time, holding in her grin. Even though this was the wizarding community and they were barely aware of Muggle culture, she could not let their line carry the name of a television horse. She didn’t know if she could explain this to Draco and Narcissa.

 

“I was thinking more along the lines of Black-Out Beauty.” Hermione suggested.

“I feel that the reference to a black-out, the sense of lost time, corresponds well with the idea of timeless beauty and elegance. Which is wat we are aiming for.”

 

Narcissa was nodding along thoughtfully. Draco couldn’t hide his smirk and shot her a mischievous wink across the table. Hermione decided not to focus on that and the hammering of her heart in her chest at this, but rather on the one person they needed to get on board.

 

“What do you think, Lady Malfoy?”

 

“I think it is about time you call me Narcissa then.”  

 

Hermione beamed at that and reached out to gently touch Narcissa’s hand.

“Thank you.” came out softly.

 

A sudden loud _POP_ startled both Hermione and Narcissa. Draco was holding a bottle of champagne, waving his wand to fill three glasses with the sparkly drink.

 

“This certainly requires a toast.” he explained, shooting his mother a grateful look.

 

As two glasses floated towards the ladies, Draco lifted his.

“To Black-Out Beauty.”

 

Hermione clinked her glass against Narcissa’s first and received, much to her astonishment, a small but sincere smile for her.

 

She quickly turned to Draco to repeat the toast and as she caught his eyes, he winked at her again. Trying to hide her blush, Hermione quickly took a sip of champagne. But somehow, she had a feeling that both the Malfoys had noticed.

 

*

 

“Hermione, would you mind giving me a moment with my son?” his mother asked and it put Draco on alert immediately.

 

After their initial toast, they’d discussed particulars while emptying the rest of the bottle. Draco had been astonished by Hermione’s proposition – although he had to give it to her, she had convinced his mother in a smart way and it definitely spoke to his Slytherin side. But his mother’s willingness to go along with the idea had surprised him more. He knew his mother would probably have done it to please him and show him her support, but he had not anticipated her clear excitement at the whole idea of inspiring a new beauty line.

 

Thinking of it, it was right up her alley and Draco secretly wondered whether his mother was glad to finally be able to blossom in something she was good at in her own right. If anything, it would definitely keep her busy enough to forget the misery her husband had brought upon her and the fact that she was practically being shunned by her former ‘friends’.

 

Draco knew his mother was a master and disguising her true feelings, but still, that glimmer of pride he’d detected at the prospect of her maiden name appearing on the brand-new beauty line, well, it warmed his heart. The fact that it was Hermione who was doing this for his mother – well, technically for the company, but she didn’t have to involve his mother to this degree – it did something to him. He didn’t have time to examine those feelings right now, but he knew he would lie awake tonight mulling it over.

 

So when his mother asked Hermione for a moment, he could only watch in amusement as Hermione got up a bit more unsteadily than usual because of the champagne. With the promise to get in touch soon to discuss the particulars, Hermione left the room.

 

Narcissa sighed, lowered down in her seat again and smiled up at him.

 

“My dragon, I’m glad to see you seem to be doing well.”

 

Draco knew that this was only introduction to the real questions she no doubt was dying to ask and just went along with her little game.

 

“It feels good to have my own purpose, make my own decisions – finally.” he replied. He put his hands in his pockets and wandered about the room, passing the open windows.

 

“How long?” his mother asked, cutting straight to the point.

 

Draco was glad he had his back turned to her, as it gave him more time to compose himself. Probably to no avail, as his mother knew him better than anyone else and always saw straight through his masks.

 

“Does it matter?” he replied, not bothering to deny anything or to ask what she was talking about, because they both knew.

 

“I suppose it doesn’t.” Narcissa conceded.

“Oh Draco, you never go for the easy route, now do you?”

 

Draco did turn around at those words, looking his mother straight into the eye. After a few moments, he was the first one to turn away and cast down his gaze.

 

Narcissa chuckled, something he rarely heard her do.

 

“But then again, you’re a Malfoy. You’ll always find a way. Now go, do not keep her waiting.”

 

With a nod, Draco stepped forward and kissed his mother goodbye on her cheek.

 

“Let me know when you come back.” he said, then slowly walked out, not knowing whether he should be worried or relieved that his mother had such keen observation skills.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter sneak peak:
> 
> _“We’re done. You and I, we’re done.”_


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As Hermione and Draco work hard to get their shop up and running, an unexpected visitor stops by.

The next few weeks flew by in a whirlwind.

 

The previous owners of the shop finally had closed their business and vacated the building. Everything seemed to go just a little smoother when the Gryffindor Princess was involved.

 

Not so much to Draco’s surprise, Hermione had jumped into the redecoration of the shop. The numerous scrolls that were covering the table that was set up in the shop’s office contained every little detail and even plans for the rooms upstairs.

 

Much more to Draco’s surprise, his mother was to be found in the spacious office quite regularly as well. Had it been anyone else, he would have been annoyed at his business partner bypassing him to contact his mother directly. But this was Hermione, who was putting in a lot of time and effort in this venture. Who maybe wanted to have it succeed just as badly as he wanted it to. Who, against all her morals and principles, was using her name and fame to get things done. Who had invited his mother to get her opinion on the shop’s interior, the colour palette of the packaging…

The happiness radiating from his mother was enough to make him want to kiss Hermione. Everything about her made him want to kiss her. But he knew he couldn’t.

 

So he occupied himself with developing the first series of potions they would sell.

The lab had been the first thing they’d installed in the new shop, as the spacious basement was ideal to work with more volatile ingredients. Besides wide working tables and ample space to have up to 20 cauldrons bubbling at the same time they had also installed a dark room in the back for stocking ingredients. Draco had to admit that this work environment was a lot more practical than the one he’d wanted to install at the Orangery.

 

Concerning the potions, Draco could rely on the work he’d done for his graduation project. There was the improved version of Skele-Gro which reduced the pain during the healing process. He’d developed a new recipe for a Sober Up potion using Hermione’s catalogue, which not only was a lot cheaper because they’d been able to replace the Mandrake root, but tasted better too. At only 7 Sickles per dose, he knew this could be an instant bestseller.

With the instructions of Severus’ portrait, he was also able to optimize the brewing process of other ordinary potions. His godfather had also given him permission to market some of his own recipes he’d developed during his time at Hogwarts. Simple things, like an improved burning paste, a tweaked PepperUp potion which enhanced a person’s concentration for a short time, …

Hermione and he had decided to tackle the more difficult and rare potions once they had their business up and running. They needed time to get the Ministry’s paperwork in order anyway, as not all potions could be sold without a license. And maybe, who knew, they’d get specific requests for complex potions. Draco was very much looking forward to the challenge.

 

All in all he was confident they’d have a nice range of new and improved products at the disposal of their clients once they opened up shop. The rest would hopefully follow.

 

Draco left the beauty products to Hermione and his mother. The two women did seem to get along well. And even though his mother would never set foot in the lab downstairs, she did not mind meeting up with Hermione in the office upstairs to go over recipes and test batches. Upon their request, Draco reviewed their ideas or gave them his opinion on the products developed specifically for wizards. But he left the ultimate decision with them. He knew better than to interfere with two strong women on a mission.

 

Between the two of them, Hermione and Narcissa had quite easily made a selection of products, ranging from skin-smoothing and blemish-removing balms and serums, to hair removal bath lotions (he did not ask for specifics here) and hair styling products (Draco tried not to needle Hermione too much about that, but still the temptation was there). There even was a limited make-up line, which guaranteed an ever perfect application due to the enchanted brushes that came along with it and long-lasting smudge-free result. Draco knew his mother in particular was very proud of these ones. Draco had seen Hermione testing it on her scar one evening after she’d removed her Glamour charm. The sad look on her face made his heart break and the guilt threatened to overpower him. Although he felt that he didn’t need to bring up the subject with her, he sometimes wondered whether he should do it anyway, to find closure.

 

In between the planning and chasing contractors, he did enjoy working side by side with Hermione in the lab, testing products and perfecting brews. It gave him a strange sense of peace, working with and next to her. True to her character, she would get so consumed by her projects, that she often lost track of time. Draco had taken it upon himself to make sure she at least had lunch and supper every day and that she did take a break now and then. She was always grateful, thanking him and promising to look after herself, but each and every time she was so absorbed in her work that she just forgot.

 

Draco did not mind in the slightest, because he enjoyed taking care of her and seeing her eyes light up every time he tapped her shoulder to interrupt her work.

He tried to surprise her a few times with the little chocolate desserts she had seemed to enjoy at the tearoom in Paris, with success. Draco didn’t dare lingering too much on the fact that he enjoyed getting to know her little habits, likes and dislikes. It had a very domestic feel to it, and it was hard not to get lost in it. Hermione never questioned his attentiveness either, never gave any sign of him wanting to stop pampering her in those little ways. So he continued.

 

However, he always had the food delivered at the shop. Although he was itching to take Hermione out to a restaurant or the new little café on the corner for a proper meal, he was unsure how she would interpret this and almost afraid that it would ruin the comfortable friendship they’d slowly built. He decided to let her take the lead there and to silently cherish the little moments they had together.

 

July turned to August, and the grand opening date they’d set on August 25th was rapidly approaching.

The shop was all but ready, shop assistants had been hired, announcements had been made and Draco could not wait until the grand and exclusive opening night. Thanks to his mother’s savvy and Hermione’s connections with some of her former Gryffindors, they had been able to strike a deal with Witch Weekly and Modern Enchantress, two leading magazines for witches. In the week leading up to the opening night, they both would give their readers a chance to win precious invitations to the event. The fact that the opening night was quite exclusive made Kaizen the talk of the town. Every self-respecting witch who wanted to confirm her social status just had to be there.

Quite deliberately they had only let Hermione be the spokesperson for and name associated the company, and with success. No one suspected the Malfoy’s involvement and it was decided that for now, they would keep it that way.

 

Draco and Hermione had taken to Apparating straight into the office in the shop, as walking down Diagon Alley was not something she could do without being harassed for an invitation to the opening night. And it was not something he could do either, concerned that being associated with Kaizen from the beginning would ruin a good start. For Draco, making this a success with Hermione was more important than connecting his name with a successful business and goodwill projects. He’d always known what his priority was here.

 

That was probably why the knock on the shop’s door startled them both. They did not have any appointment with a contractor or supplier and Narcissa usually Floo’d over. And it was about 11 at night.

 

With a shrug towards him, Hermione walked to the door and opened it a few inches.

 

“Ron?”

 

Her voice was quiet with a hint of confusion woven through it. Draco tensed. Of all the people stopping by, it had to be the Weasel. For a second, Draco considered giving Hermione and Weasley some space and retreating to the office upstairs. But then his pride kicked in. This was as much his project as Hermione’s. He had every right to be here, more so than Weasley had. If they wanted privacy, Hermione would have to ask.

And secretly, deep down, he wanted Weasley to see him, a Malfoy, being close to Hermione. Although Draco liked to believe he was past his childish insecurities and pointless grudges, there was something about Weasley that just rubbed him the wrong way.

 

“Hi. Can I come in?” Weasley’s muffled voice sounded from the other side.

 

Hermione hesitated for a second – which pleased Draco immensely -and then opened the door to let Weasley enter the shop.

 

“Why are you here?” Hermione asked straight away while Weasley was taking in the newly decorated shop. Her tone was anything but the jovial one Draco would have expected from her. He wondered what had happened between the two that would cause her to keep him at arm’s length. He remembered the Prophet’s headline from weeks ago, but well, you couldn’t really trust anything the Prophet printed.

 

“Hermione, I just wanted to say I’m sorry for what I said last time.” Weasley’s uneasy answer came.

“I realised that I – what is _he_ doing here?!”

 

Weasley had spotted Draco now and it dawned on Draco that Hermione might not have informed her ginger friend about their partnership. Well, that was about the change right now.

 

“Evening to you too.” Draco drawled, taking on a relaxed and confident stance.

 

“Ron… I can explain. Let’s just go somewhe-“ Hermione tried, but Weasley, as uncultivated as ever, just ignored her and strode further into the shop.

 

He seemed to be taking in the whole room, then spun back to Hermione, his face becoming more red by the second.

 

“Explain? EXPLAIN?” he spat and Draco had the urge to hex his mouth shut. One did not yell at Hermione like that.

 

“Explain why there is a fucking _Death Eater_ here, looking as if he owns the place? Explain why I find out this way? Fuck Hermione! Have you completely lost it?”

 

Hermione had closed her mouth and by the hardened look on her face, she was not amused. Draco kept his hand close to his wand – just in case – but he knew beyond certainty that a pissed-off Hermione could very well take care of herself. He had to suppress a smirk at the thought of the spectacle he was about to witness.

 

“Don’t you _dare_ say that again.” Hermione’s cold voice interrupted Weasley’s rant.

“Don’t. You. Dare.”

 

She marched up to where Weasley was standing, chin raised defiantly and hair crackling with restrained anger.

 

“YOU have been ignoring me for the past YEAR, and now you come marching in demanding answers after scolding me on the street last time?” Hermione screeched. It was so very unlike the composed and rational Hermione he’d always known. _Except for that one punch in third year._

 

“YOU LEFT ME!” Weasley bellowed out, and for a moment Draco felt very uncomfortable watching the scene. However much he enjoyed witnessing Weasley being dressed down, he could clearly see that Hermione flinched at the words.

 

Hermione’s shoulders slumped and then, just like that, the fight seemed to leave her all at once. Draco hated seeing her this way, hated Weasley for being able to make her retreat in her shell like that.

 

“You know it was not like that.” she softly said.

 

“It wasn’t?” Weasley bit back, his words laced with venom. “After all this time, when we finally had a chance, you left me. And I begged you. But you left.”

 

“Ron, I had to go back. With my family…”

 

“My family was grieving too. _I_ was grieving too.”

 

Hermione sighed, sounding weary and drained. “I had to go back. For myself, to get a chance to retreat to what’s been my home for so long, from all the press and the aftermath of the war, to process _everything_ that has happened in the last _seven_ years. I needed the space, needed to think of only myself _for once in my life_.”

 

A heavy silence hung between the two Gryffindors. Hermione, trying to catch Weasley’s gaze and pleading with her eyes and Weasley, looking everywhere but at Hermione.

Then Weasley’s gaze fell on Draco again, and his eyes narrowed.

 

“Did ‘finding yourself’ include shagging that piece of scum?” he spat out.

 

Hermione gasped in horror at the accusation and before she could even begin to think to reply, Draco’s feet had carried him over to where Weasley was standing.

 

“Get. Out.” he commanded, voice cold and devoid of all emotion.

 

Weasley merely scowled at him, but decided to be a moron – as usual – and ignore a clear threat.

 

“Well? What have you got to say for yourself?” Weasley taunted, locking Hermione’s gaze with his and completely ignoring Draco.

 

“I’ll not repeat myself Weasley.” Draco insisted. “Get. Out.”

 

Hermione just stood there, dead silent and pale as a ghost. Draco moved a bit closer, positioning himself halfway in between Hermione and Weasley.

 

“Where are your precious morals now?” Weasley continued, looking over Draco’s shoulder at Hermione, “Always too good for everyone and now you’re suddenly best friends with this bullying Pureblood arsehole who should have been in Azkaban and doesn’t give a fuck about a Mudbloo-“

 

Draco barely had any time to register what was happening, but one moment Weasley was calling her that awful, _awful_ name and the next Hermione had slapped him in the face with all her might. Weasley stumbled back a bit, a red handprint starting to show on his cheek.

Even though Draco was cheering for her inwardly, he immediately reacted by pulling Hermione behind his back and shielding her with his body.

 

Not a moment too soon, because Weasley’s own hand shot out, ready to retaliate. Draco caught his flailing arm mid-air and closed his fingers around Weasley’s wrist in an iron grip. Seekers were always faster than Keepers. His grey orbs were boring into Weasley’s bright blue ones, challenging him to continue, to give Draco a reason to hex him into next week.

 

“Last warning.” Draco threatened, and this time he did notice a flash of fear crossing Weasley’s ugly face. He tightened his grip on Weasley’s arm.

“Get. Out.”

 

Weasley tried pulling back his wrist, but Draco only let him go at his second attempt.

 

As Weasley turned back to the door, he shot Hermione a venomous look.

 

“We’re done. You and I, we’re done.”

 

Hermione looked as if she wanted to follow Weasley, but then came to her senses.

 

“Ron, don’t-“

 

“Don’t come crying for help when _he_ decides he no longer has any use for you.”

 

As Hermione stepped forward, Draco turned towards her and gently placed his hand on her arm. This was not the time nor moment to chase after Weasley.

 

But he shouldn’t have done that. By the time he registered the sound coming from behind him and had turned his head to check on Weasley, Weasley had closed the distance between them and balled his fist. With a sickening crunch, the fist connected with Draco’s nose.

 

For a moment everything went black. By the time Draco had opened his eyes again, he was on the ground, clutching his nose with his hands. He could feel the warm trickle of blood seeping down his chin.

 

He vaguely registered a door being slammed shut. Damn it, Weasley was fleeing, and Draco hadn’t even gotten the chance to get back at him.

 

And then he felt two soft hands cradling his face. He looked up, straight into Hermione’s worried brown eyes.

 

He tried to turn away from her – he did not want her to see him like this, weak and in pain.

 

“Fuck. FUCK!” he moaned as he tried to think of what to do. Probably call for his Elf.

 

But she did not let go and carefully but decisively turned his face back to hers.

 

“I’m so sorry Draco, so sorry. Hold on.”

 

He wanted to tell her that she had nothing to apologise for, that it was not her fault. That he was the one who should not have turned his back on his enemy. But he couldn’t get the words out.

 

Hermione had grabbed her wand and was pointing it straight at his face.

 

“Petrificus Partim” she whispered and within a heartbeat Draco’s nose went numb. It was followed by a calm “Episkey”, as if she’d done this a hundred times already.

 

He wanted to grin – clever girl had petrified his nose, making the healing spell less painful for him.

 

“Finite.” she finally said, ending the numbing spell.

 

Draco carefully touched his nose. It felt as if nothing had ever happened.

 

“Tergeo.” Hermione went on, vanishing the blood from his face and hands.

 

“And last but not least, a lovely face balm from this famous Black-Out Beauty brand to get rid of the redness, and all the ladies can sleep peacefully again tonight, knowing that that cherished Malfoy face remains unharmed and unblemished.” Hermione joked, effectively forcing a lopesided grin from him. She got up and strolled towards the shelves, selecting the right product.

 

“All the ladies?” Draco quipped “My my Granger, I did not know you lay awake in bed at night, thinking of me.”

 

Hermione continued rummaging through the products, although Draco suspected it was more to compose herself than to search after the balm. He let her and observed her from his position on the ground, stretching his arms behind him to lean back.

 

She turned back to his side, screwing the lid off a little silver jar. Sitting on her knees, she offered him the balm. Draco could see the hesitation in her eyes and decided to take advantage of it, for once.

 

“Could you…?” he asked.

 

“Oh! Of course!” she answered immediately and dipped one finger into the jar.

 

She shuffled a bit closer, until her knees were brushing his outstretched legs.

 

“Hold still.” she murmured as she leaned in, bringing her face inches from his.

 

Draco refused to close his eyes, watching her brow furrow in concentration as she gently dabbed the balm onto his nose. With featherlight strokes, she spread it out until she was sure she’d covered all the damaged skin.

Every time she exhaled, Draco could feel her hot breath tickle his skin. It felt more intimate that it should have.

 

She was so close he could easily inhale her intoxicating scent. He wanted to lean in, close the distance, but didn’t dare move a hair.

 

Hermione was finished now, but she did not move either. Instead, she let her hand trail to his cheek, fingertips barely touching him.

She glanced up from under her lashes and the moment her warm brown eyes connected with his grey ones Draco felt his stomach clench. One second turned into two, three, four and a hot pulse started down low in his belly.

 

Then Hermione suddenly blinked, realizing where she was and what she was doing. Just like that, the spell was broken. She dropped her hand and sat up straight immediately. Draco felt a spike of regret, but quickly recovered.

 

“Thank you.” Hermione whispered and she gave him a soft smile.

 

Draco shook his head, not trusting his voice at that moment to tell her that it was nothing, even though it _was_ something to him.

 

 “I’ve never quite had some sort of a hero sticking up for me like that.” she confessed.

 

Draco scoffed, then got up and dusted off his trousers.

 

“Well, this hero could do with a drink.” he said, before retreating towards the office upstairs. He knew without looking back that she would follow, just like he would have followed her to make sure she would be alright. The only difference was that he would follow her everywhere. Always.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter sneak peak:
> 
> _She could not keep herself from staring at him. He looked beyond handsome in his perfectly tailored black suit. It accentuated his broad shoulders, slim hips and lean muscled form in the best way possible. His hair was combed back, but not in the too-much-gel bad kind of way he used to style it during his first Hogwarts years, but in the I-want-to-bury-my-fingers-in-it sexy kind of way. Hermione’s mouth went dry at the thought._


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's the moment the wizarding world has been waiting for: the grand opening of Kaizen! But first, Hermione has an unexpected guest coming over, much to Draco's dismay.

“I wouldn’t if I were you.” Draco warned, but Hermione just giggled and held her glass just out of his reach.

 

“Shush-shush, this is a splendid idea.” she giggled, clearly feeling the effects for the whisky they’d been sharing.

 

Where Draco had gotten that excellent bottle so fast, Hermione did not know. What she did know was that it tasted damn good and that it left her feeling almost as good as she’d been before Ron had come barging in.

 

Now the bottle was half empty and Hermione half drunk. Draco had tried to slow her down, but so far she’d managed to get her refills. While Draco most certainly could easily overpower her physically and take away her glass, he didn’t seem very inclined to do so. Which suited Hermione just fine at the moment.

 

Rolling his eyes at her, Draco grasped his wand and vanished the golden liquid from her glass.

 

“Hey!” Hermione protested. “You do not waste a proper Scotch like that.”

 

Draco chuckled – the drinks had made him loosen up a bit more as well. And Hermione couldn’t complain. He always seemed so carefully composed, now and then she even suspected he used Occlumency. She on the other hand, was an open book and often failed at keeping her emotions in check. Must be a Gryffindor thing.

 

Hermione sat up and gave her glass a shove, making it slide to the opposite side of the desk where Draco was sitting. Although sitting wasn’t the right word. She wondered briefly whether that was part of a Pureblood upbringing as well: the art of lounging. Draco did an excellent job at it, looking relaxed and ever-confident as he was leaning back in his chair, one ankle draped casually over the other leg, whisky glass balanced on his knee and hair tousled from dragging his fingers through it.

 

_Just the way I like it._

 

Draco stopped her sliding glass with one hand before it could topple off and cocked one eyebrow at her.

 

“Come on Draco.” Hermione pleaded. “Last dram.”

 

Draco shook his head and took a sip from his own glass.

 

“Draaaacoooo” Hermione purred, leaning over the desk in an attempt to get closer to her glass again. But Draco ignored her and just put it a bit farther out of her reach.

 

“You know what?” Draco started with a sly smile. Hermione knew that meant trouble.

“You tell me something about yourself I do not know yet, and I return your glass. Filled.”

 

Hermione leaned back again, pondering the idea. The problem with Draco was that his proposals never were as innocent as they seemed. He was a Slytherin after all. Knowing herself, Hermione would probably end up telling him way too much anyway.

 

“Hmm, I’m not quite sure I like your proposal Mister Malfoy.” Hermione shot back. While she did not necessarily need the drink and probably should go home, there was a part of her that got excited when Malfoy made deals with her like that. As if it was worth the effort to get to know her better, as if she was doing him a favour by sharing her time, her knowledge and her attention with him. It made her wonder whether he did that to all the ladies, or just her. It probably was the alcohol, but Hermione dared to admit to herself she liked his little games, even if she knew she would almost always lose. And he knew it too. Maybe she could take advantage of the fact that they’d both been drinking and that he seemed a little less guarded.

 

Hermione got up and slowly strolled around the desk, over to the side where Draco was sitting. She felt his eyes on her, calculating what her next move would be. _Good, let him speculate._

It thrilled Hermione that he probably would not expect her to do anything out of character. Well, the whisky had decided otherwise.

 

She dragged her fingers over the smooth surface of the desk, closing in on Draco. She could see him shift in his seat, straightening up a bit. She probably would not have noticed if she wasn’t specifically watching him for these tiny uncontrolled displays of his feelings. But Hermione’s best guess was that he did not know what to expect right now.

 

With a cocky smile, Hermione stopped right in front of him and elegantly perched on the desk. Draco was watching her with unapologetic interest – his silver eyes flashed as she leaned forward.

 

She held on to his gaze and she slowly leaned in further and further. She had to give it to him, he didn’t bat an eye or move a hair, but let her come closer to him with a glint of amusement in his eye. Lazily, Hermione stretched her arm out towards her glass that sat on the desk a little bit further.

 

“Why don’t you tell me a secret first.” She finally spoke as her fingers closed around the cool glass. A second later, she felt Draco’s warm hand curl around hers. His eyes even hadn’t left hers for a second, yet he’d noticed her movement anyway. He threw her a boyish smirk but held onto her hand and the glass. Hermione could feel a blush creeping up her cheeks.

 

“Why don’t you start.” he suggested, although it wasn’t really a suggestion at all. The low rumble of his voice did funny things to her stomach.

 

“What do you want to know?” Hermione shot back, not ready to give him an opening and still trying to get him to play by her rules. If she could get him to ask a question instead of her having to start telling him something, she might turn this around and use it to her own advantage.

 

“Your first?” he allowed her.

 

For a second, Hermione was taken aback by the very personal nature of his question. She had not expected that. For a Slytherin, known masters at planning, anticipation and even manipulation, he could be very forward if he wanted to be. It was almost Gryffindor of him. The thought made her want to giggle.

 

“Viktor was my first kiss.” she answered, purposely misinterpreting his question. But then, he had not specified her ‘first’ enough.

 

Draco’s eyes darkened at her response, but there was no further reaction. Hermione smirked.

 

“Who was your last kiss?” Hermione took her turn.

 

Draco averted his eyes and sighed. He lifted his glass and threw back what remained of his drink in one gulp. The bruteness of the gesture took Hermione by surprise and gave her a glimpse of what she thought was uneasiness at her question. The other hand, still wrapped around her glass and her hand, tightened around hers.

 

“I don’t know her name.” Draco replied tersely. He almost seemed ashamed of his admission.

 

“Oh.” Hermione said, not knowing what to think of that little fact. Dozens of questions shot through her head. Who was she? Had he been drunk? Had he picked her up somewhere? Taken her home? Had it been more than just kisses? Had she stayed the night? Hermione recognized the uneasy feeling she’d always gotten at Hogwarts whenever she’d spotted Ron and Lavender, back when she still had had hope. But she couldn’t be jealous, right? When he was nothing more than her business partner, when she had no claim on him whatsoever.

 _But you would like to have one, don’t you?_ that little nagging voice popped up again.

 

“Well, I think it’s about time to head back home and get some sleep. Busy week and all.” Draco broke the awkward silence by getting up and releasing her hand.

 

Hermione nodded and got off the desk as well, glad for the change of subject, but somehow disappointed at the way the night was ending.

 

“But Draco, with our products you no longer need your beauty sleep.” she teased in an attempt to get that spark back in his eyes.

 

He scowled at her, but she could clearly see that he did not mean it.

 

While he was readying himself to Apparate back home, he suddenly turned to her with a serious expression on his face.

“Will you be able to get home safe?”

 

It touched Hermione that despite his soured mood and the clear desire to get away as fast as possible without being rude, he still did care about her wellbeing.

 

She smiled at his chivalry and got two vials of their very own Sober Up potion out of her pocket. She threw him one – which he snatched out of the air as if it were a Snitch – and wiggled her sample in front of him.

“Best there is I heard” she joked while unstoppering her vial and swallowing the potion. While she was still enjoying the light minty aftertaste, she could already feel its effect.

 

“Thanks.” Draco nodded and emptied his vial as well.

“Good night Hermione.” was his soft greeting before he was gone with the all-familiar crack.

 

*

 

The last few days leading up the the grand opening were hectic at best.

But on the 25th, they were as ready as they could be.

 

Hermione was currently standing in front of her mirror in one of the empty rooms on the second floor of their shop. She’d turned the room into a bedroom, knowing that she might be too exhausted to go home after tonight. Or after a night of brewing. And it made getting ready for the big opening a lot easier too.

 

She was slowly turning around, admiring her floor-length white halter dress. While it did look quite understated at first glance, the split in the skirt and the low dip baring her back gave it a touch of elegant sexiness. She’d put up her hair in a neat chignon and had kept her make-up simple.

Hermione loved how confident and sexy the dress made her feel. It wasn’t really traditional witches’ eveningwear, but she figured that if she wanted to introduce a brand-new shop like the wizarding world had never seen before, she had to look the part as well.

 

While she was extremely proud of what Draco and she had accomplished so far, it bothered her to no end that he would not be up there with her tonight, as a full partner of their company. Draco had informed her of his decision to just attend as any other guest, believing it would be best for Kaizen and her not to be associated with the Malfoy name right away.

 

It was a whole load of bullshit.

Hermione had tried to convince Draco, but he was stubbornly holding on to his decision.

So she’d had to revert to other means. She hoped he would not be too mad about the way she’d gone about it. If anything, he should appreciate her Slytherin streak showing.

 

The soft knock on her door alerted her that it was already six thirty.

 

Hermione opened the door with a non-verbal and wandless wave of her hand, allowing her guest to enter.

 

“Oh Hermione, darling, you look stunning. Ready to steal the spotlight tonight.” Narcissa complimented her as she took in the witch before her.

 

Hermione shot her a smile, knowing that such compliment from Narcissa was not given lightly. It was strangely nice to get along with the witch so well. Whether is was discussing work or that little teashop where they had the best earl grey, they usually found common ground. The way Narcissa advised Hermione on certain wizarding customs and traditions reminded her of the way Molly used to take Harry and her under her wing. Hermione had decided not to overthink it all too much, but just enjoy her time with Narcissa. And the older witch seemed to enjoy Hermione’s company as well, making Hermione wonder how lonely she had become since the war.

 

“You look the very definition of elegant as well Narcissa. I would say ‘tell me your secret’, but you already did.” Hermione greeted the matriarch and strolled over to press a barely there kiss on her cheek. Narcissa looked impeccable as always in her champagne coloured dress that no doubt cost more than Hermione’s entire wardrobe.

 

Narcissa took both of Hermione’s hands in hers and squeezed them lightly.

“Are you ready?”

 

Hermione inhaled deeply. Was she ready for the opening? Of course, she couldn’t wait. But that wasn’t really the question.

 

When Hermione had realised that she would not be able to convince Draco of taking his rightful place beside her as a co-founder of Kaizen, she’d decided that the best way to obtain what she wanted, would be through his mother and – loath as she was to admit to needing her – Rita Skeeter.

 

Now Ron knew of her collaboration with Draco, it was only a matter of time before Draco’s and Narcissa’s involvement in the whole business would be revealed. Wanting to do this on her own terms, Hermione had decided that she would use Rita’s curiosity and inability to let a good deal slip to her advantage. After revealing her plan to Narcissa and getting her approval, Hermione had made a proposition to Rita: she would get the full and exclusive story about the most anticipated event and business at the moment and get to interview the business partners and Narcissa. In exchange, Rita would not publish any other stories relating to Kaizen coming from other sources.

 

It hadn’t taken very much to get Rita to agree. She’d seemed all to eager to get started as soon as she’d heard Draco Malfoy was involved, working together with Hermione Granger no less! Hermione shuddered at the thought of what horrendous title Rita would come up with for her article. But it had to be done, and this way Draco would have to step up and let the world know what he was working on. What good he was doing and how he was most definitely _not_ like his father.

 

Narcissa had assured Hermione that Draco would not be mad or resent her for it. But his pride would definitely take a hit.

 

“As ready as I can be.” Hermione finally answered Narcissa, who gave her an approving smile.

“Thank you for agreeing to be present Narcissa. It means a great deal to me – and Draco probably too – that you, the inspiration of part of our business, will be there.”

 

“With pleasure Hermione.” Narcissa nodded as she lifted her skirts to descend the stairs. Hermione followed her in silence.

 

As Narcissa reached the first floor and turned right towards the office where they would be receiving Skeeter, Draco came into sight.

 

He had not yet noticed Hermione but was looking at his mother with a confused expression on his face. He had not expected her to be here already. But Hermione’s brain did not have the patience to dwell on that fact. In fact, her brain short-circuited entirely as she took in Draco standing at the bottom of the staircase.

 

She could not keep herself from staring at him. He looked beyond handsome in his perfectly tailored black suit. It accentuated his broad shoulders, slim hips and lean muscled form in the best way possible. His hair was combed back, but not in the too-much-gel bad kind of way he used to style it during his first Hogwarts years, but in the I-want-to-bury-my-fingers-in-it sexy kind of way. Hermione’s mouth went dry at the thought.

 

“Mother?” his question came, and Narcissa patted him on the arm.

 

“Hermione will explain in a moment, dear.” Narcissa put him at ease before nudging him to turn towards the stairs.

 

The moment Draco’s eyes connected with hers Hermione could almost feel the electric spark between them. It sent a shiver down her spine. The intensity with which his eyes were roving over her body before seeking out her warm brown eyes again did silly things to her stomach.

 

Somehow Hermione found it in her to descend the rest of the stairs without stumbling and when she stood in front of Draco, he gently took her hand and pressed a light kiss onto it. His molten iron eyes never left hers as his lips lingered a moment longer than was appropriate.

 

“You look exquisite Hermione. Truly.” Draco admired her.

 

“You look quite dashing yourself.” She responded with a smile.

 

He was still holding her hand, and for a moment Hermione imagined him tugging her closer to him, wrapping her in his arms and making her forget that in an hour, their grand opening would begin and that before that, they had something else to deal with.

 

Her blush must have betrayed her thoughts, for a mischievous glint appeared in Draco’s eyes and he gave her a playful wink.

 

However, they both almost jumped when Narcissa cleared her throat.

 

“Not that I want to interrupt, but we’re expecting someone to Floo over any moment now.” Draco’s mother hinted.

 

Draco released Hermione’s hand, but held her gaze, shooting her a silent question.

 

“Let us take a seat in the office.” Hermione started and followed Narcissa in. She could feel Draco’s burning gaze on her naked back but didn’t dare turn around, as she was sure it would make her weak in the knees.

 

Once they were all seated, Hermione decided it was better to come clean straight away.

 

“At seven, which is in a few moments, Rita Skeeter will interview us.”

 

Draco’s eyes narrowed, glancing back and forth between Hermione and his mother. The lack of the latter’s surprised reaction must have told him enough about Narcissa’s involvement.

 

“Us?” was the simple question he asked.

 

“Yes.” Hermione stated, raising her chin a hair to show that he would not convince her otherwise.

“We will give her the full story on Kaizen, the products, the future projects, the inspiration” – a quick glance at Narcissa here – “and _both_ the founders.”

 

By the thinning of Draco’s lips as he pressed them together, she could see he was none too happy.

 

“Draco, Ron knows.” Hermione tried to convince him, trying to get through to him by looking him straight in the eye as she told him the truth. “It will only be a matter of time before everyone knows. I’d rather it happens on my terms than his.”

 

At her statement, she could see a flash of understanding cross Draco’s features. It gave Hermione hope that he would not be cross. Or not too cross anyway.

 

“And more importantly, I want you to stand beside me tonight Draco. If not for you, I would not be here today, Kaizen would not be what it is and we would not have these exciting prospects for the future. You told me you wanted to have your name associated with something good again Draco. This is your start. Right here, together. Months ago I promised you a favour. I want you to do this in return for me now Draco. And for yourself.”

 

Hermione pleaded him with her eyes, genuinely afraid that he would decline anyway. He was a proud man after all.

She could not read the look he was giving her, but she felt it was intense and that he was hiding his deeper emotions.

 

Before he could open his mouth to reply, the fire in the hearth roared, announcing an arrival through the Floo and made the choice for him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The smoldering looks, the silent promises... we're getting there!
> 
> *hums shalalala kiss the girl*
> 
>  
> 
> Sneak peak:
> 
> _For a moment, the whole world seemed to stop and hold its breath, Hermione’s chocolate eyes boring into his grey ones. Then she lifted her head just that tiny bit, carefully brushing her lips against his, as if anything less gentle would break the spell._


	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The moment we've all waited for is here!  
> And someone else shows up, but will it be a good thing or not?

**You have the bravest heart**

**The strongest emotions**

**After all the harm**

**You still want my loving**

_[Turn the tide – cover by Jasper Steverlinck]_

**__________________________________________**

 

 

She was standing with her back towards him, facing the fireplace to see Skeeter off.

Draco had wanted to take the opportunity to slip out the door, to get a chance to compose himself again and deal the with the knowledge that very soon, he would be co-hosting the event he was supposed to merely attend. While he knew that he would always prefer standing side by side with Hermione presenting their company to the wizarding world instead of being a mere spectator, he was also realistic. He was used to dealing with negative comments, sneers, insults and even jealousy. It was an inherent part to being a Malfoy and former Death Eater at that. But he wanted to shield Hermione from it all. How would she deal with the criticism, the disappointment of people who had expected better of their Gryffindor Princess and War Heroine? Would she regret associating with him if it cost her her friendships? He was not sure he would be able to bear it if she did.

 

Before he could make it to the door, his mother’s hand on his sleeve halted him.

 

“I will oversee the final preparations downstairs.” she stated, as if she owned the business instead of him.

She did not give him the opportunity to formulate an answer, but passed him and closed the door.

 

Draco turned back around to Hermione. She was still standing with her back towards him. Not for the first time that night Draco had to suppress the desire to run a finger down her naked spine. He swallowed at the thought.

 

Hermione let out a loud sigh and placed her hands on the desk, letting it carry her weight as she slumped a bit and let her head hang.

She looked tired and with a pang to his heart, Draco wondered if she was reconsidering her decision to reveal the truth tonight.

 

He knew it had been a big deal for her to allow Skeeter to publish their story. He knew that she felt guilty because it had been her supposed best friend who had given her no choice but to act now. And he knew that she had given in for him as well. She truly had the bravest heart. Because somehow, she believed in him and thought he deserved this chance. And he was going to take it, with both hands, but only together with her.

 

He calmly walked up to her. The sound of his footsteps made her swirl around in surprise. Her shoulders relaxed as she noticed it was him and that in itself made him bold enough to continue until he was right in front of her, only inches apart.

 

“Draco, I know you didn’t want to reveal our partnership yet, bu-“ Hermione started, but Draco silenced her apology with a finger to her lips.

 

Her eyes went wide and she stared at him in confusion. But she didn’t back away or push his hand aside. She never backed away, and that was something he loved about her. She didn’t hide or took the easy road. No, she fought for what she believed in, and tonight, he could feel that was him. _Them._ She believed in him enough to put her own reputation and friendships on the line. She believed in them enough to befriend his mother, stand up to him and disregard his foolish request to remain a silent partner in all of this. She _cared_ enough about him. After everything, she cared.

 

It made his heart swell with love for her and before he could stop himself, he removed his fingers from her lips and slowly tilted his chin towards her, closing the distance. He stopped right before their lips could touch, feeling her hot breath mingling with his. It made the hairs on his neck stand on end.

For a moment, the whole world seemed to stop and hold its breath, Hermione’s chocolate eyes boring into his grey ones. Then she lifted her head just that tiny bit, carefully brushing her lips against his, as if anything less gentle would break the spell.

 

It was soft, hesitant and very tender, and it felt _right._ Something clicked into place as Draco’s heartbeat sped up until it was hammering so hard, he was sure Hermione had to hear it too.

 

Draco lifted his hands, one curling around her waist to land on her bare back, just above the dip of her dress. The other slid around her neck, tenderly holding her head as he let out a shuddering breath and started nipping at her lips.

 

He wanted to roar in triumph as he felt her soft hands sliding up his arms, over his shoulders and shoulder blades, down to rest on his chest. The simple caress set his nerves on fire and made his stomach clench delightfully.

 

Without breaking the kiss, Draco stepped forward, pulling Hermione flush against him and completely boxing her in against the desk. One of his legs nestled itself between hers, pushing the fabric of her dress aside and revealing everything up to the smooth skin of her thigh. She didn’t seem to mind one bit, as she clutched the lapels of his jacket and pulled him even closer. She opened her lips and coaxed his apart as well, desperately wanting to deepen the kiss, as if she was searching for something more. Draco did not hesitate and let his tongue slip in, reveling in her taste and the little moan that escaped her. That little noise caused heat to pool below his abdomen.

 

He felt electricity run through his veins as they let their tongues dance. They explored each other with a growing passion and the kiss became more urgent, more desperate. Her fingers trailed upwards over his chest, combing through his hair at the base of his neck. Then, unexpectedly, she yanked at his hair, making him gasp. It gave her the opportunity to bite down his tongue. Draco growled while fighting for dominance as the kiss got more heated. He could feel Hermione pressing her hips harder against his, seeking body contact and friction while he was towering over her, consuming her.

  

Draco knew without a doubt that if he didn’t slow down then and there, it would only be a matter of moments before he would hoist her up the desk and make her his. This was not the time nor place – there was a crowd waiting outside at the entrance of their shop for Merlin’s sake! Not to mention his mother!

 

Mustering all his strength, Draco slowly pulled back, nipping and pressing feather-light kisses against her bruised lips for as long as he could. Hermione, her eyes still closed, chased his lips with hers until she seemed to realise that Draco was, indeed, withdrawing.

 

She had never looked more beautiful than in this moment: cheeks flushed with desire, a little breathless from their kiss and clearly yearning for more.

 

With the softest of smiles, Draco gently caressed her cheek with the back of his fingers, tucking a stray lock of hair behind her ear.

 

“Later.” he whispered, his voice low and full of promises that made her eyes spark.

 

He brushed his lips against her temple, then stepped back to allow them both to recover from the intense moment.

 

“I will wait for you downstairs.” Draco said, biting his lip to suppress a mischievous smile, but all the same shooting her a smoldering glance.

 

“Usually, the waiting is done upstairs.” Hermione quipped as she smoother her white dress. She bit her lip as well and it made Draco want to kiss her all over again.

 

“Minx.” Draco growled and left the room, before he locked it and had his way with her, consequences be damned.

 

*

 

There was no doubt that their grand opening was a success. Those who had been lucky enough to score invitations to the soiree had been eager to discover Kaizen, which had been the talk of the town for a few weeks now.

Plates with delicious food and bottles of champagne were floating around the room. People were talking, laughing and examining the products on display.

 

And yes, there had been a few angry outbursts and even a few people leaving when it was revealed during the opening speech that Draco and Narcissa were involved, but they’d had those people removed from the shop. Others were glancing warily at Hermione and Draco, but kept their mouth shut and were interested in the products. All in all, the news of their partnership had been received as best as Hermione could have hoped.

 

She had been distracted all evening though, replaying that scouring kiss with Draco in her head, over and over again. By the looks he was giving her, she knew he was thinking about it too. That burning gaze of his held dangerous promises and Hermione wanted nothing more than be swept away by it. She wondered how long he had wanted to do that, to taste her.

 

It was a good thing he had stopped before things would have gone further. At least someone was using his brain to realise that it had not been the right place or time for more. However desperately Hermione wanted it. It had been too long, and there was just something about Draco that drew her in like a moth to a flame. It felt like he was able to bring out a more reckless, carefree side of her.

 

Hermione circled the room, stopping here and there to politely chat with people, receive praise for the concept of the store and, if she was fully honest with herself, to avoid Draco just a bit. She needed to focus on their clients right now, not the delicious way her body fit against his. Plus, she had the feeling that Narcissa had been watching her a bit too closely, as if she suspected something. Nothing got past her it seemed.

 

Hermione shot Narcissa a knowing smile from the other side of the room while they both were watching the group that was currently crowding the Black-Out Beauty shelves. Some of the products had already sold out and the shop assistants hadn’t had a moment of rest. This could not have gone any better.

 

“Hermione!” a familiar voice came from behind her, and Hermione turned to see Harry approaching her, with Ginny in tow.

 

Even though she greeted Harry enthusiastically and crushed him in a warm hug, she knew things could get awkward with Ginny.

 

“Thank you for coming, both of you.” Hermione offered. “I hope you can find something of interest amongst our products?”

 

Harry grinned at her. “I’ve already spent a fortune to spoil Ginny.” He beamed, and Hermione noticed Ginny shuffling a bit awkwardly beside her boyfriend.

 

“Congratulations on the job, by the way.” Hermione tried, for Harry’s sake. “I heard you’ve signed on with the Holyhead Harpies.”

 

Ginny gave her a careful smile, but it wasn’t hard to miss the pride shining in her eyes.

“Thank you, it’s been a dream come true so far.”

 

Ginny turned back towards Harry, whispering something and then dashing off, no doubt to speak to someone else.

 

Harry let her go, but Hermione could clearly see the disappointment in his eyes at the interaction between his lover and his best friend. Hermione felt a pang of sympathy for him. With everything that had happened between Hermione and Ron, he must feel pretty conflicted. And Harry hated conflict.

 

“Look, I heard what Ron did last week.” Harry started, but Hermione held up her hand.

 

“Harry, let’s not talk about it right now.” she told him gently, “This is my night, and I’m going to fully enjoy it!”

 

Harry laughed, a genuine happy laugh. “For once I’ll try not to steal the spotlight Hermione.”

 

“Imagine, the Boy-Who-Lived-Twice-But-Got-Overrun-By-Fangirls-While-Purchasing-A-Lipstick.” Hermione quipped.

 

Harry grabbed two flutes of champagne from one of the floating trays and handed one to Hermione.

 

“To you Hermione. And to having the Gryffindor courage to stand beside Malfoy tonight. “

 

“I’ll drink to that.” Hermione laughed, knowing that Harry understood how thankful she was for his comment and the way he accepted Hermione’s choice.

 

“I’ll better go find Ginny again and let you be the most wanted star of tonight.” Harry excused himself.

 

Hermione smiled at him as she watched him go and disappear in the throngs.

 

“Do I get to toast to the lady of the night as well?” a low drawl came from behind her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It happened! fmqjfioezqoi!  
> Let's hope that they continue on this path ;)
> 
> As for who the mystery person is who wants Hermione's attention... find out next chapter!
> 
>  
> 
> Also, the song mentioned in the beginning is the one that inspired this fanfic. I heard it and the lyrics kind of got me thinking. (well, thinking more about Dramione than usual)
> 
>  
> 
> Nex chapter sneak peak:
> 
> _“I can see. The fallen Slytherin Prince and the golden Gryffindor Princess? Sounds like a fairytale. Does it have a happy ending too?”_


	14. Chapter 14

Draco was roaming the party, that was now in full swing. Although this was his night, it did not really feel that way with most of the people ignoring him or sending him glares.

 

Fortunately, he was used to it and had had sufficient training in Occlumency and keeping his emotions in check. He was grateful that his mother and Severus had insisted on him perfecting those skills – they came in quite handy right now.

 

While he did not dare approach Hermione directly for fear of not being able to keep himself from teasing her and driving her mad with casual touches and little comments only meant for her ears, he did keep an eye on her.

_Pull yourself together, one kiss doesn’t mean she loves you._

 

So far, she’d been mingling with their guests, talking to old friends, interested customers and the very own Gryffindor Princess fanclub. One man – Draco did not recognise his face – was coming a bit too close for his liking, inappropriately touching Hermione’s bare back while whispering in her ear. Draco’s blood boiled at the sheer audacity of the pompous git. But he didn’t need to worry – soon enough, the man yelped and jumped back, cradling his wandering hand. Draco suspected Hermione had subtly hexed him and he grinned proudly. His witch knew how to take care of herself. Draco grinned proudly.

 

But was she really his witch? While there was no doubt that there was something there between them and that her response to his kiss had been more than passionate, they hadn’t really had the opportunity to talk. Draco hoped he would get his chance later tonight. He did not want there to be any misunderstandings, and knowing Hermione, she would dissect and analyse everything that had happened, maybe misinterpreting him. Draco did not want to risk that – this was his one shot, and he was not about to let anything ruin that.

 

He watched her wander off, towards Potter and the Weasley girl. It was clear that the two women hadn’t mended their once good friendship, because Weasley was quickly making her excuses to dart to the other side of the room. Draco wouldn’t have cared either way, if it weren’t for the fact that he knew that it had weighed on Hermione during their last year at Hogwarts. On the other hand, he probably should be grateful as well; it had made him approaching her that much easier without anyone else around.

 

As Potter took his leave as well, Draco figured he would use the lull in the buzz to go talk to Hermione. Ask her if they could talk later tonight. _Or in the morning._ Draco fantasized.

Not wanting to get ahead of himself, he quickly shut down that train of thought and slowly made his way towards her through the throngs of people. Only to notice that another wizard had already taken his place. Draco didn’t recognise him straight away, as the wizard’s back was turned to him, but the man seemed familiar.

 

Hermione clearly was having a lively conversation with the wizard, as she was smiling and biting her lip like she would do whenever her brains were going at a hundred miles an hour.

 

As Draco approached, she caught his eye and her face lit up.

 

“Draco, there you are.” Her voice brightened his mood instantly – she sounded like she had been looking for him and as glad to spot him sauntering towards her. Draco had keep keep himself from thinking about how it would feel to host events together with her, searching for each other from across the ballroom, gravitating towards each other while their guests would be oblivious to the little dance they were performing…

_Get yourself together Malfoy!_

 

The wizard turned his head and to Draco’s shock he recognised none other than Theodore Nott.

Hiding his initial surprise – he hadn’t seen or heard of the Slytherin mate for over a year now – Draco joined Hermione’s side. His hand grazed her hip and she didn’t seem to mind as she shot him a warning look. Draco ran his tongue along his teeth, innocently looking back into those warm brown eyes. However, his hand itched to find its rightful place on Hermione’s lower back, sending out the signal to all the wizards attending that this witch was his. But he couldn’t – not yet.

 

“Nott.” he politely nodded. _Let him make the first move._

 

“Malfoy, it’s been a while.” Theo greeted and jovially clapped Draco on the shoulder.

 

“Draco, Theo was just telling me about the Mastery in Charms he is completing, in a record time of two years.” Hermione interrupted, seemingly unaware of the underlying tension between the Slytherins. Maybe it was just something only Slytherins recognised.

 

_So it was already Theo now, was it?_

 

Draco suppressed a spike of jealousy and reminded himself that not a few hours ago, Hermione had been curled around his body, driving him mad with her lips and touches.

 

“The one with Monsieur Lecomte in Montpellier?” Draco commented, remembering how Theo had once mentioned it.

 

“Indeed.” Theo nodded. If he was surprised at the fact that Draco had remembered this little fact, he did not show it. _Typical Slytherin._

 

“I figured I had to stop by tonight to visit the newest, break-through business of the moment myself. I must say it’s most surprising to see the two of you pairing up to create something like this.”

 

Draco lifted an eyebrow at the compliment. Knowing Theo, there was more to it.

 

“We’re glad you are enjoying yourself, Theo.” Hermione smiled. “We’ll need to catch up another time to talk more about your project – tonight’s not ideal.”

 

“Ah I see, people are waiting in line for a moment with the star of the night. I’ll make sure to keep you to that promise, Hermione.” Theo smiled back and bowed his head elegantly. Such a Pureblood charmer when he wanted to be.

 

As Hermione excused herself and turned around to greet another group of guests, Draco rounded on Theo.

 

“Alright, what’s the deal here?” he got straight to the point, not bothering with the pleasantries anymore.

 

Theo gave him a cocky grin.

“Ah, nothing has really changed much, hasn’t it?”

 

“ _Everything_ has changed.” Draco hissed through his teeth.

 

“I can see. The fallen Slytherin Prince and the golden Gryffindor Princess? Sounds like a fairytale. Does it have a happy ending too?” Theo prodded, calmly sipping his champagne.

 

Draco narrowed his eyes, the only outward sign of his annoyance. He knew Theo was goading him, distracting him from the question Draco just asked.

 

“I have an excellent whisky in the back.” Draco commented.

 

Theo grinned at him.

“Finally! Something else than this bubbly shit! Lead the way, Lord Malfoy!”

Theo just loosened his grip on his champagne glass, knowing it would be charmed to keep hovering in the air until a tray would float by and whisk it away.

 

Without drawing much attention to themselves, both men made it towards the back, upstairs into the office, where Theo made himself comfortable in one of the armchairs by the fireplace without further question.

 

Draco occupied himself with the drinks as he glanced at Theo from the corner of his eye, who was now observing the room.

 

“Nice place you’re got here. Even better business partner I should say.” Theo commented seemingly off-handed while he accepted his tumbler with a nod. However, Draco did not take the bait and refused to comment.

“All things considered, you’re doing very well for yourself. I’m glad.” Theo continued when he realised Draco would keep silent.

 

Draco blinked. Glad? He stared at Theo for further explanation. Theo got up and started pacing.

 

“Yes, I’m glad. That despite your upbringing, despite the many mistakes your father made, despite that _lovely_ reminder of his mistakes on your arm, you’ve managed to get this.”

He gestured with his arm.

“You’ve managed to convince _her._ ”

 

Draco refused to react. _Not yet, there’s more to come._

“And you know why that makes me glad? Because that means that there is still hope for me as well.”

 

Draco furrowed his brow at that confession.

 

“Theo-” he started, but Theo did not let him finish.

 

“No, listen! We both grew up together, have known each other since we were in nappies. Merlin Draco, we could have been brothers for all intents and purposes! Both an only child, heir to the fortune of an ancient Pureblood House, both with these immense expectations weighing on our shoulders.” Theo’s voice was getting louder, and Draco wondered whether he should charm the room a bit more private.

 

“Both with a Death Eater father. Both Head of our House at 18.” Theo finished with a quiet voice.

 

Draco sighed, which earned him a frown from Theo.

 

“Both fathers gone now, and Merlin Draco, the day they informed me that he had died was the happiest so far! The freedom I have now, not having to follow orders, to follow that awful ideology – because let’s be honest, my father bled just the same as those Muggleborns and Halfbloods on the battle field that day.”

 

Theo paused to throw back his whisky, summoning the bottle for more. It seemed to calm him down, which was odd, but then Theo had always been the odd one out at Hogwarts. The reserved one, not fighting his way to the top like Draco had done, but silently watching from the sidelines, doing his own thing. And probably learning a great deal about everything and everyone – he’d always been a keen observer. No doubt he would have picked up a thing or two over the years that Draco would rather have kept to himself. But that was the thing with snakes: they kept the information close to their heart, guarding their secrets, until it was time to use them to their advantage.

 

Theo reclaimed his place next to Draco’s chair, swirling around his drink in the tumbler as he seemed to contemplate his next words.

 

“The day he died, it was as if I could breathe again for the first time. I know we haven’t spoken to each other or seen each other for over a year Draco, but I needed that time to find myself again, be away from it all and do my own thing.”

 

It was as much as an apology as Draco was going to get from Theo. But it was enough, to recognise that his absence had been noted.

 

“Your Mastery in Montpellier certainly was a good choice then.” Draco remarked.

 

Theo nodded and took another sip.

 

“And then what?” Draco asked, because really, that was what mattered.

 

Theo shrugged.

“Live a quiet life, at home, make my own choices. Maybe invent a charm or two.”

 

Both men chuckled at that.

And then, Draco did something he rarely did: he let his feelings of comradery take over and made an impulsive offer.

“Why not come work for Kaizen? If Hermione approves of course. We could use another set of brains and some Slytherin resourcefulness.”

 

Theo lifted an eyebrow, surprised at the offer.

“Something to consider. And it is Hermione now?”

 

Damn, Theo really did not miss a beat. Maybe being around someone as open as Hermione had made Draco a bit more careless at keeping his guard up.

 

Draco shrugged, leisurely taking a sip.

“We’re good friends.”

 

If Theo didn’t believe him, he didn’t mention it. Not that it was any of his business anyway.

 

“If there’s one thing I’m very glad for, it’s the fact that as the Head of House, I’m no longer obliged to marry the perfect Pureblood girl my parents would have shoved at me. You know, I’m actually looking forward to the day I can settle down and live the nice quiet life.” Theo mused.

 

Draco grimaced. That was certainly something he’d narrowly escaped as well. He couldn’t imagine himself trapped in a loveless, arranged marriage. Not when his heart was beating faster for someone else.

“Can’t disagree with you there, mate. That’s one Unforgivable we’ve dodged there. I’m quite enjoying my freedom at the moment.”

 

Theo chuckled. “Always been quite the ladies men hmm.”

 

They both turned their head at the sound of someone entering the office.

 

A vision in white came into sight and while Draco drunk in Hermione’s beauty, Theo lifted his glass towards her.

 

“Having a good time, gentlemen?” Hermione laughed, coming closer and perching on the corner of the desk so she could easily talk to both of them.

 

Theo was quick to respond, while Draco silently sipped his whisky.

“Ah, you know, the usual banter between two Heads of an Ancient House. How to spend our fortunes, who has the bigger estate, …”

 

Hermione bit her lip, holding back a giggle. She’d clearly had some champagne already.

“Well, maybe I should leave you two to it then.”

 

“By all means, stay, as it is not every day that a young lady such as yourself deems us scoundrels worthy of her company.” Theo continued, with as much theatrics as he could.

 

“Alright then, if I’m not interrupting anything?” Hermione asked, looking both to Draco and Theo. Draco shot her a weary smile while he rolled his eyes at Theo, who happily chattered on.

 

“Nothing too important – just discussing the merits of not being forced into an arranged marriage. No wondering whether your wife loves your vault or your estates more.”

 

Hermione shot them both a commiserating look.

“Well, at least you can take the handsome gardener off the list when you’re having House Elves attend to that chore.”

 

They all chuckled.

Hermione turned serious again.

“I cannot imagine having my parents pick a partner for me, even if it would be from the circles they would move in.”

 

“But that’s not something you need to worry about now, Hermione. Now that you’re making your own fortune with this company, there’s no need for you to find yourself a rich old husband. More like you’ll be trying to keep the gold-digging younger sons away.” Theo joked.

 

“I know! I’m so terribly devastated that all my attempts to get cosy with Slughorn just to get to his gold have all been for nothing!” Hermione played along, earning another chuckle from both men.

 

“Poor Horace, this will break his heart!” Theo laughed. “But no worries, you can of course still focus on the younger, titled gentlemen who do not need your fortune and would choose you for you.” Theo waggled his eyebrows at Hermione suggestively.

 

Hermione threw her head back and laughed. It was a pleasant tingling sound and Draco wished he was the cause of it. She then threw them a coy smile and played with one of her locks. Draco itched to wrap them around his own fingers and tug them.

“Thank you for the advice Theo. I will keep that in mind – I hope you can recommend me some of these handsome gentlemen, if you know any.”

 

Theo gripped at his chest, pretending to be hurt by her comment.

“How you wound me Hermione! To question our pure intentions and chivalrous ways! Drake mate, say something!”

 

Draco only smirked and raised his glass.

“To Hermione, the slayer of male pride.”

 

Hermione answered with a dazzling smile that made Draco desperately want to be that one gentleman for her. He almost forgot that Theo was watching them with very interested eyes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter sneak peak:
> 
> _“Know-it-all hmm?” she teased, gripping his wrists. “I’ll tell you something else I know.”_
> 
> _Draco cocked an eyebrow in question and Hermione licked her lips._
> 
> _“It’s past time you shut that mouth and use it for something else.”_


	15. Chapter 15

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When the party is over...

The event was slowly coming to an end, the last guests trickling out onto the street, carrying their precious goodie bags and purchased products. Hermione was glad their opening had been such a success. The start of Kaizen could not have gone better. Tomorrow Rita’s article would appear in the paper, and then on Monday they would start their normal routine of creating and selling their products.

 

Narcissa had waved off Hermione, saying she would wrap up the party and that Hermione should go look for that son of hers. So that’s what Hermione did, being a smart witch and not going against Narcissa’s instructions. She retreated back to the office where she had last seen the two men. During the rest of the event, she had not spotted Draco or Theo on the ground floor again. And it became painfully clear that Draco had been right about the fact that people would rather see him go than come.

So she figured that her best guess would be the office, where they’d been sipping whisky before. It might be the champagne talking, but she somehow had the feeling that she would have known if Draco had returned to the shop downstairs, his burning eyes seeking her out.

 

She had guessed right, for when she entered the office, Theo was just saying his goodbyes to Draco.

 

“We’ll keep in touch!” Theo shouted before he disappeared in the green flames of the fireplace, Flooing home. With all the drinks he’d no doubt consumed, it was the safer option anyway.

 

“I quite like him.” Hermione softly said, causing Draco to turn around to face her. His eyes roamed over her body before meeting her gaze again. And that damn smirk again! Hermione swore he _knew_ what that smirk did to her. She tried to remain calm and collected.

“I wonder how I’ve never noticed him at Hogwarts.”

 

Draco shrugged as he sauntered over to where she was standing, keeping their eyes locked.

“Theo always was a quiet one, focused on his studies. He wasn’t really one for the mass events either – I don’t think I’ve seen him attending a Quidditch game once. Kind of makes him more bookworm-ish than you.”

 

Hermione stuck out her tongue at him, which Draco just ignored.

 

“And of course, he did not return to Hogwarts to finish his studies, opting to start his Mastery straight away. He’s quite the genius at Charms.” Draco finished, coming to stand in front of Hermione. He kept a respectable distance, and Hermione was glad for it. With the champagne she’d been steadily drinking all night, she did not trust herself if she were to smell his spicy scent or feel the warmth radiating from his body.

 

“Interesting.” Hermione pondered, as her brain processed all the information.

“Why was he here?” she asked, knowing that a Slytherin and friend of Draco would not ‘just’ stop by at their opening gala.

 

“Picked up on that too huh?” Draco grinned and it made Hermione feel a tiny bit proud. It looked like Draco’s and Narcissa’s Slytherin qualities were rubbing off on her.

 

“He is interested in joining us. And I think he could be a valuable addition. There are a lot of possibilities with a Charms expert on board.” Draco continued.

 

Hermione nodded thoughtfully at this. Consulting with Theo might indeed not be a bad idea. So far she liked him. And if Draco, who had known him far longer than she had, trusted him, then maybe they should look into this.

 

“Already getting tired of your Gryffindor partner that you want to tip the balance towards Slytherin?” she teased.

 

Draco’s eyes darkened at that and his hand shot out to grab her by her waist and pull her closer to him. His taller frame loomed slightly over her and Draco bowed his head, letting his lips ghost next to her ear.

 

“Never.” he whispered and placed a soft kiss below her ear. Hermione sighed. It was almost embarrassing what that one word and that one touch could do to her. Instinctively she tilted her head to the side, allowing him better access to her neck. Draco continued his path down the column of her neck with his lips.

 

Hermione did not get any time to think where this could go and how fast it could go there, for they both heard Narcissa’s heels on the wooden staircase.

 

Hermione jumped back, blushing furiously. Draco just smirked and lazily rocked back on the balls of his feet, hands in his pockets again. He did not seem to phased by his mother walking in on them kissing.

 

“Ah, Draco dear, there you are. And Hermione!” Narcissa entered the room. If she’d noticed anything out of the ordinary, she didn’t show it. Having gotten to know the Malfoy matriarch over the past few weeks, Hermione knew for sure that Narcissa _had_ picked up on her hot cheeks and fidgeting and Draco’s seemingly innocent stance. She must know her son by now, but chose to ignore it.

 

“That was a success if I may call it that!” Narcissa continued, looking so happy that Draco gave her an indulgent smile. She clearly was in her element after having been the focus of a heavily press-attended event.

 

Narcissa turned to Draco, cradled his face in her hands and looked up at him with shining eyes.

 

“I am so proud of you, my dragon.”

 

Draco smiled down at his mother and Hermione felt like an intruder watching this intimate moment between mother and son. She realised that the Malfoys had come a long way and that tonight had been a first clear and public step in the right direction again. She could imagine that the Malfoys did not get many opportunities like this. Even if they wanted to prove that they were redeemed, they probably did not get a chance to do so in the first place.

 

Narcissa whirled around again, this time focusing on Hermione. She took both Hermione’s hands in hers and sighed happily.

 

“You were magnificent tonight Hermione, almost glowing. And your speech – I was truly touched. You two will be a force to reckon with in the Potions world.”

 

Hermione blushed again – really she urgently had to learn to control those red cheeks!

“Thank you Narcissa. And thank you for everything you’ve done.”

 

“It was a true delight Hermione.” Narcissa squeezed her hands once more before letting go again.

 

“I will see the both of you at the Golden Griffin for brunch tomorrow.” Her tone of voice brooked no argument.

 

Without further ado, she turned around, grabbed her Floo powder, tossed it into to fire  - how in Merlin’s name could anyone make is seem like an elegant choreographed dance movement? – and was gone before Hermione could even begin to say something.

 

Hermione turned back towards Draco.

“She seems genuinely happy with the way things went.”

 

“She is.” Draco took a step closer again, knowing they would not be interrupted anymore now the last person had left the building.

“And I have you to thank you for that.”

 

He sounded so sincere as he looked down at her, his hands ghosting their way up from her elbows to her shoulders. He then raised them further to gently cup her cheeks. Hermione closed her eyes at the spark of electricity running through her veins and sighed softly.

 

“It has been a long while – years – since I’ve seen her like this. Like the mother I remember from when I was young: finding pleasure and passion in the things she was doing, sharing it with people she truly cared about. Like herself. You did that, for her.” Draco breathed against her lips.

 

“ _We_ did that.” Hermione corrected him.

 

Draco chuckled. “Fair enough, my know-it-all lioness.”

 

Hermione opened her eyes again and peeked at him under her lashes.

 

“Know-it-all hmm?” she teased, gripping his wrists. “I’ll tell you something else I know.”

 

Draco cocked an eyebrow in question and Hermione licked her lips.

 

“It’s past time you shut that mouth and use it for something else.”

 

“So bossy.” Draco admonished before crashing his lips against hers, earning a soft moan from her.

 

It took them only a heartbeat to pick up where they’d left off earlier that evening. The fire was there in an instant and it had never felt so good to be consumed by it, by _him_. He tasted like whisky and seduction and Hermione could not resist.

She weaved her arms around his neck, seeking purchase in his hair to pull him closer to her.

 

Draco instantly obliged and wrapped his arms around her, pulling her flush against his body. The hard panes of his chest pressing against her made her want to tear off his shirt to trace her fingers over his skin.

Hermione knew how easily she could get carried away by her emotions, and she really wanted to give this an honest chance. She would have to slow down, take this step by step. If her failed relationship with Ron had taught her anything, it was that she had to listen to her gut feeling and not be persuaded to follow a tempo she wasn’t comfortable with.

 

But things felt so different with Draco, so unlike anything she’d ever experienced with both Viktor and Ron. Where Viktor had wooed her, swept her off her feet with his chivalrous ways and charming behaviour, he’d also treated her like a delicate flower, his princess on a pedestal. She was anything but that. And Ron… she didn’t even want to go there.

 

Draco however, he made her feel strong and weak at the same time: strong because he recognised and respected her inner strength and potential. He trusted her judgement and that she would bounce back when she tripped. Weak because with a smoldering look, a gentle touch or a passionate kiss, he could make her forget everything until it was just him and their burning passion for each other. He made her feel like a real woman, one who was loved and had love to give. But that was the thing, wasn’t it? Was this lust? _Most definitely_. Was there more? Hermione had to admit that on an intellectual level, Draco understood and challenged her. He’d shown her a side of him she’d never seen before the war and she wanted to take her time to get to know that Draco, see if they could be more.

 

Hermione slowed down the tempo a little bit, enjoying the feel of Draco’s lips against hers, of his tongue caressing hers. She took her time to explore him with her hands. She raked her fingers through his soft locks and let her hands find their way down his neck and his shoulders towards his chest again. She could feel his heart hammering against her hand and briefly wondered whether her heartbeat matched his or was beating even faster. Because his hands, wandering from her naked back down to caress the curve of her arse, set her whole body on fire. Hermione had to bite back a whimper at the feeling of his hips pressing into hers.

 

Draco released her mouth with a gentle bite to her lower lip and rested his forehead against hers. He was panting, as if restraining himself cost him all of his concentration.

“Fuck Hermione, you drive me absolutely _mad_.”

 

Hermione smiled coyly at his admission. Yes, he definitely made her feel like a woman.

She arched her back slightly so she was able to catch his eyes, their light grey colour now turned into a molten iron.

 

“Draco, I’m not in this for a quick shag, or to do the business partners with benefits thing.” she admitted. Better to be straightforward from the beginning.

 

Draco shook his head and frowned. “Have I ever given you that impression?” His tone of voice was a bit too quiet to Hermione’s liking. Shit, she hoped she hadn’t insulted him!

 

She tried to bring a bit more lightheartedness in her comment. “Well, you did have that reputation of being the Slytherin Sex God.”

 

Draco quietly scoffed, then cupped her face again, holding her gaze.

 

“I want you. Not only for a night, or several nights. Not for a quick and fleeting thing. I want more and I hope you think I am worth a shot.”

 

Hermione was left speechless for a moment, taken by surprise by his honest answer. Of all the things he could have said to her, she had not expected this intense and open confession.

Before she could overthink it, she rose to her tiptoes and pressed a soft kiss to his lips. It was a sweet confirmation full of promises. It was all he needed for an answer.

 

“And with that, I will be the gentleman and take my leave.” Draco said and stepped back, releasing her face.

 

Hermione immediately felt the loss of his warmth.

“You’re going?” she asked hesitantly.

 

Draco gave her a patented Malfoy smirk as he walked backwards towards the Floo.

 

“What did I tell you Hermione? We Malfoys have patience.”

 

Hermione remembered what he once had told her, back at Hogwarts. It seemed like a lifetime ago.

 

Draco grabbed a handful of Floo powder, but kept his eyes locked on hers. The burning stare he sent her made her want to cross the room, back into his arms.

 

“And we also get what we want in the end.” he added arrogantly. “Sleep tight Hermione. Dream of me.”

 

And then he was gone, leaving Hermione standing in their office, wondering how the hell he had managed to ruin her panties with just that sentence.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'll be posting one more chapter tomorrow, but then it's holiday time with the family, which means no new chapters for at least 2 weeks.  
> Sorry Hermione and Draco, for making you wait. But the wait will be very much worth it!
> 
>  
> 
> Next chapter sneak peak:  
>  _The fire roared to life and a handsomely dressed Theo stepped out of the green flames._
> 
> _There was a spring in his step as he bounded over to Hermione’s desk, dusting off his jacket as he went. As astonished as she was to see Theo in a Muggle suit, Hermione had to admit that it fit him nicely. She had a tiny suspicion he had dressed up like that for her._


	16. Chapter 16

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's the morning after the grand opening, and Draco and Hermione enjoy brunch with Narcissa.
> 
> And Theo makes a reappearance again.

“Unbelievable! A House Elf?” Hermione almost choked in her tea.

 

Narcissa pressed her fingers to her lips to stifle a giggle. Draco just rolled his eyes, annoyed but not able to be mad at his mother for sharing childhood stories. At least she had not brought any pictures to their brunch, although he wouldn’t put it past his mother to do so the next time.

 

“Oh Hermione, you should have seen him. Proud as only a three year old can be, wearing his pillowcase.” his mother continued.

 

Hermione glanced at Draco, who was concentrating a bit too hard on his scone.

“Well, Draco, I bet you did make one lovely House Elf.” she couldn’t resist.

 

Draco shot her a glare, but the sparkle in his eye betrayed the fact that he was not mad at all. If anything, he actually enjoyed the two most important women in his life having fun together. Even if it was at his expense.

 

Narcissa leaned over and patted his hand affectionately.

“You’ll have to forgive me, my dragon. It is a mother’s prerogative to reveal these little tidbits.”

 

Draco nodded, knowing that his mother knew he would not deny her anything. They’d been through too much and she had risked too much for him in the past. He would forever dote on her and Narcissa would no doubt forever take advantage of that. Whatever made her happy.

 

Narcissa turned back to Hermione.

“Speaking about parents, I think I missed yours at the opening last night Hermione.”

 

Draco studied Hermione intently. He had been wondering the very same thing. In fact, he wasn’t entirely sure that Hermione had invited her parents to begin with. He did not want to contemplate that it might be because of him and his mother that she had not wanted to have them attending. He could not deny that his family, together with other Purebloods, had been anything but accepting of Muggles and Muggleborns. Hell, little over a year ago they would have been killed on the spot, just for being who they were.

 

He noticed that Hermione seemed taken by surprise by his mother’s question. She had never been good at hiding her emotions, and Draco had been studying her for a long time. Then, a shadow seemed to cloud her bright eyes, dimming the light that had been there just moments before. Draco glanced at his mother to see whether she had noticed too, but if she had, she did not show.

 

“Well, they couldn’t make it.” was Hermione’s short reply. There was no doubt she did not want to elaborate, but there was clearly more to it than her weak excuse. Draco filed that away for later.

 

“Shame.” Narcissa said. “They must be proud of you though. You must send them the article about Kaizen that appeared in the Prophet this morning. All things considered, Rita Skeeter managed to write a decent piece about the two of you.”

Hermione nodded and occupied herself with placing her empty cup of tea just so on the saucer.

 

Narcissa’s eyes flickered towards Draco, silent question implied. Draco shook his head almost imperceptibly, signaling to his mother to drop the subject.

 

“Anyhow, it is almost one and I do have an appointment I cannot be late for.” Narcissa smoothly changed the topic and got up. “Stripping and redecorating an entire Manor does require a lot of attention.”

 

True to his upbringing, Draco rose from his seat as well. With a smirk, he noticed that Hermione quickly did the same, blushing at her disregard of the Pureblood etiquette. As much as she was a magnificent witch who was born for great things in magic, there were always little moments like these that betrayed her lack of full understanding of the wizarding culture and more precisely, Pureblood customs. The few books elaborating on the subject were only to be found in the libraries of Pureblood households.

 

Narcissa seemed to sense this and quickly reassured the young witch.

“Oh no, do remain seated Hermione! I would not want to cut your brunch short just because I have other obligations. Do stay. Draco?”

Narcissa’s tone was just a bit too innocent there. Draco knew she was up to something, but was smart enough not to cross her.

 

“Of course mother, I will take care of everything.”

 

With a fleeting kiss to his cheek, Narcissa swept out of the room. Draco sat down again, silently shoving his chair a bit closer to Hermione’s.

 

“Are you alright?” Draco asked, worried about her change of mood after the question about her parents. She seemed a bit withdrawn.

 

Hermione looked up and smiled. “Of course, just a bit tired.”

Even though Draco felt that the smile didn’t quite reach her eyes, he decided to leave it be.

 

“I have been thinking about our production scheme once Kaizen opens.” Draco changed the subject.

 

“I’ve been worrying about that too – there is no way we can keep up with the demand if last night was any indication. We need more time to focus on other projects and experimenting instead of brewing.” Hermione agreed.

She finished her tea and was eyeing the last piece of brownie on the tray. Draco grinned. He knew she had a weak spot for chocolate and he specifically had not touched that last piece, saving it for her.

Without further comment, Draco reached out and placed the brownie on Hermione’s plate.

 

“Go on,” he chuckled, “it’s all yours.”

 

He got awarded with a pretty blush and a quiet ‘thanks’.

 

“I think I may have found a solution which would free up time for the both of us. But-” Draco raised his finger in warning “you have to hear me out before you shoot down anything.”

 

“Fair enough.” Hermione said, but Draco could tell she was suspicious and had a feeling she wouldn’t like what he had to say.

 

“House Elves.” Draco cut straight to the point. Hermione opened her mouth to protest – damnit, he _knew_ she would do that – but Draco raised his hand again, silencing her. A crumb stuck to the corner of her mouth as she closed it again, and Draco had to resist the urge to swipe it up with his thumb.

 

“Once we write out detailed instructions, House Elves can brew our potions. They are quite good at following precise instructions and in most Pureblood households they actually do take care of the potions stock. I know, _I know_ you might have something against using them.” Hermione arched her eyebrow at him, not impressed.

Draco continued anyway, unphased. “Think about the House Elves at Hogwarts, the ones who do not have a home or a family to serve and who would be miserable and would literally waste away because of that. Hogwarts provides them with a home, a family and a purpose in their lives. What if we could do the same?”

 

He could see Hermione’s eyes lighting up with interest now.

 

“We can take on those Elves who do not have anywhere to go, provide them with living quarters, food, clothing – hell, even wages if that’s what it takes. Kaizen would be their House, they would have a family again together with the other Elves. They would be brewing for us, which means we would have reliable, loyal workers who are not about to spy on our recipes.” Draco finished. He knew he had her on board the moment he mentioned how well they would treat the Elves.

 

“I had not even considered the risk of competitors wanting to steal our recipes.” Hermione mused. “I like the idea Draco, because it’s a win-win situation for both sides. I have connections at the Ministry in the Department of Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures, they might even want to cooperate with us whenever they stumble upon lost or mistreated House Elves.”

 

Draco loved seeing Hermione’s brain at work. He knew that in her head, she was already planning where the Elves would live, how they would arrange all the practicalities, where they would get the Elves, … No detail would escape her plan.

 

“I can start with transferring four Elves from the Manor to Kaizen even this weekend. They can help with setting up the place for the others.”

 

“Brilliant. Great idea Draco! What do we do with Theo? You mentioned that he might be interested in joining us?”

 

Draco leaned back in his seat, thinking on the idea of having his Slytherin mate on board.

 

Meanwhile, Hermione levitated the tea pot, silently asking if he wanted a refill. Draco nodded absently and watch how Hermione poured his tea, then added a bit of honey, just the way he liked it.

He wondered where she had picked up on that. Draco waited until she was finished with her cup too before sharing his thoughts.

 

“I think Theo could be the addition we need. He’s a Charms genius and if we could incorporate that into our products or consult him on other matters, that would definitely have added value.”

 

Hermione nodded along.

 

“I sense hesitation from your side?” Draco tried.

 

“I just do not know him. At all. He’s always been a quiet one at Hogwarts.” Hermione admitted.

 

Draco scoffed. “You were just too busy running off on Merlin-knows-what adventures with Potter and Weasley to notice him.”

He knew that that might sound a bit harsh, but it was the truth. The Golden Trio had always gotten away with everything. Not just simple rule-breaking like sneaking out after curfew or smuggling in alcohol or stuff from Zonko’s.

 

“I know, I know, in the end you did save us all.” Draco said, suddenly tired, and he raised his hands in his defense. “But you did get away with a _lot_ Hermione. I would have been expelled without further ado the first year if I had done half the stuff you three did. But Dumbledore protected Potter, and by extension, you.”

 

Hermione was silent for a moment and Draco almost regretted venting out loud. But damn, he knew he was right and he would not hold that back. Not from Hermione. He wanted to be honest with her, open about everything. That was the only way to win her over in the end.

 

Hermione sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose between two fingers. Draco did not expect her to agree with him – too many things, hell, _a war_ had happened along the way. Fortunately she decided not to start a discussion, or rather, a fight either.

 

“About Theo: I trust your decision there.” she shrugged, in a very un-Hermione careless way. Draco wanted to feel relieved that she was following him in all his ideas – the House Elves, Theo – but somehow, at that moment it did not feel as a victory.

 

“I will contact him and let you know when he can come in to play around with ideas.” Draco concluded.

 

“Thank you.” was Hermione’s distracted reply.

 

They both had finished their tea now and they knew that prolonging the brunch would not make much sense now.

 

“Got any plans for the weekend?” Hermione asked.

 

Draco blinked. He hadn’t really thought about it. All his focus had been on getting through the opening night of Kaizen. His mother had her own schedule, and besides Theo, he did not really have any friends to catch up with.

 

“Want to join me in the lab? I want to work on some ideas before the school year starts again.” Hermione offered after a moment of silence.

 

“Excellent.” Draco jumped at the chance to spend his time away from his home and in her presence.

“I have some ideas myself.” He commented casually as he summoned their robes from the rack by the door.

 

Like a true gentleman, he helped Hermione put on hers and he took the opportunity to caress her neck and shoulders, hands lingering there. He inhaled her familiar scent of jasmin, amber and vanilla as he bent closer and nuzzled the sensitive spot under her ear.

She spontaneously leaned into his touch, a sigh escaping her lips.

 

“Draco”

 

It did not sound like an admonishment, but neither as a plea.

Draco smirked as he reluctantly pulled back an inch.

 

“Does the Wolfsbane potion ring a bell?” he whispered.

 

The excited spark in her eyes as she whirled around to face him was worth it all.

 

*

 

Hermione had always thought that it would take some time to get used to running a business. That the first few weeks would be hectic, with lots of little things to take care of and little sleep. But the complete opposite was true.

 

The House Elves had taken over the brewing part without complaint or questions. Draco had set the Manor’s Elves to taking care of practicalities, which resulted in the transformation of one of the large store rooms in the back of the shop into House Elf territory. All Elves received a nice Kaizen uniform and brewing outfit with the company logo embroidered on it. They also received wages, even if it was next to nothing, upon signing their contract. They had been able to hire three more Elves through the Ministry and even though they needed more time to adjust to their new environment and weren’t allowed to brew until they were deemed ‘more stable’, they did make themselves useful by cleaning the lab and the shop. Hermione had wisely decided to keep all comments to herself, as her experiences with trying to understand House Elves were anything but positive. Just the thought of dealing with Kreacher in the past was enough to refrain from interfering as Draco arranged everything with the Elves. Having spent his whole life living in a Manor run by Elves, he was a natural at handling them and their sometimes weird emotional outbursts.

 

It was also Draco who took care of the financials, the contracts with suppliers, owl order services and personnel. It was clear he was used to running a business in collaboration with his lawyers and Hermione wisely kept her nose out of it. Draco would give her the rundown of everything that was going on, but she was too inexperienced in that area to really be of added value. So she thanked him, asked questions and trusted him. It felt oddly strange to leave organizing a part of her life to someone else. At Hogwarts, it had always been her taking care of others. This way however, was a nice change.

 

But that meant that she suddenly had more time to focus on her projects. And Theo.

Draco had reached out and Theo had agreed to come in one day a week to share his knowledge and aid Draco and Hermione. As he was still finishing his Mastery and Draco and Hermione were still in the stages of setting up their business, this deal worked for everyone.

 

That was also how Hermione found herself in her office again, awaiting Theo’s arrival. Draco had some House business to take care of at the Ministry today and was not able to join them. Which made Hermione a little bit nervous. It was one thing to amicably chat with someone at an event, with Draco present as a buffer and having had a few glasses of champagne. It was a whole other thing to meet up and discuss business with someone she didn’t really know. She was a little bit nervous about it and had to constantly remind herself that she was the business owner and that Draco trusted him.

 

The fire roared to life and a handsomely dressed Theo stepped out of the green flames.

There was a spring in his step as he bounded over to Hermione’s desk, dusting off his jacket as he went. As astonished as she was to see Theo in a Muggle suit, Hermione had to admit that it fit him nicely. She had a tiny suspicion he had dressed up like that for her.

 

“Good morning!” he greeted happily, strode right up to Hermione and kissed her on the cheek.

 

For a second, Hermione froze. She had not expected such familiarity from the wizard.

Theo noticed immediately and hastily took a step back.

 

“Sorry, Pureblood habits and all that.” he apologized awkwardly, scratching the back of his neck.

 

Hermione waved her hand. “No, it’s alright. I just did not expect that. However, now you’ve got me curious. I thought the proper way was to kiss the hand of the lady?”

 

Theo grinned. “That’s pretty formal – not how you would greet a friend.”

 

Hermione lifted an eyebrow. So they were already friends now, were they? She then remembered how Draco had kissed her hand before, thinking the gesture was galant and even a bit romantic. It seemed it had more to do with tradition than she thought.

 

“Oh, I see. Our dear Draco used all his charms on you, didn’t he? The full show with the bowing and hand kissing?”

Theo was watching her again, observing her and Hermione reminded herself that Draco had mentioned that he was good at reading people.

 

“And deducting from your blush, he quite succeeded.” Theo winked.

 

“But onto more important matters now: me!” he joked while he draped himself over the seat opposite Hermione’s.

 

Despite the weird start of their meeting, Hermione had to stifle a giggle. Theo reminded her of the Weasley twins, how they always managed to get away with everything just with their humour and charms. It made her want to feel instantly comfortable around Theo. Because just like Fred and George, Theo was intelligent as well. She’d always known how to deal with the twins, and she did not doubt that she would find a way to work with Theo.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Coming up next... everything you've been waiting for!
> 
> A little teaser to tide you all over for the next weeks:
> 
>  
> 
> _Hermione had reached the door now, hand already on the doorknob. With a few quick strides Draco closed the gap between them. He reached out, his hand snaking around her waist. With an urgency that even would have surprised him had Draco had time to even notice such thing, he turned her around to face him. The intense desire in his eyes was the only warning Hermione got, before Draco’s other hand moulded to the back of her head and pull her closer._
> 
> _His hot lips crashed into hers, smothering her soft noise of surprise with them. She recovered quickly however and closed her eyes in delight as she returned his kiss, which seemed to break the dam that had been holding back all the passion inside Draco. Inside both of them.  
> _


	17. Chapter 17

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Four letters needed: S.M.U.T.

“Hermione, we cannot deny the sex.”

 

It was the first thing Draco heard when he stepped onto the landing, having Apparated straight to their shop.

 

“ _Theo_ ,” came Hermione’s voice “I am not up front discussing this with Draco. It would be awkward.”

 

_What the actual fuck?!_

 

He’d left Theo alone with Hermione for one morning, _one morning_ , and this was what he came back to?

 

Draco was torn between barging in, wanting an explanation, and standing still in his spot, overhearing the rest of their conversation.

 

_Don’t be foolish. She kissed you back. She wants you. This is probably not what you think it is._

 

Still, Draco knew that Hermione could get anyone else, being the beautiful, intelligent and passionate woman that she was. She’d hardly ventured out into the wizarding world, being a Muggleborn and having spent her time either at Hogwarts or fighting a war. And he… well he was the fallen Malfoy heir, reputation and arm branded for life. A spike of panic surged through Draco, his usual confidence wavering.

 

No. Hermione would not play with him like that.

 

Slowly, he made his way over to the office, keeping his footsteps silent.

 

“I don’t see the problem.” Theo again. “It is a natural part of relationships, of life. Merlin knows Draco knows how to talk about it.”

 

He heard Hermione groan, sounding more agitated than anything else.

 

“No. We keep this quiet for now.” Hermione again. What was she trying to keep from him that involved sex?

 

“We work on it first and if, IF there are results, we present it.” Her tone of voice allowed no argument.

 

“Fine.” Theo gave in.

 

“So nothing has happened between the two of you yet?” Theo asked mischievously.

 

Draco decided that was his moment to step in, before Theo wrung more information out of Hermione that they all would like.

 

“Not that _that_ is any of your business.” he drawled, leaning against the door post.

 

Hermione and Theo whipped their heads around towards him, both startled and probably wondering how much Draco had heard.

 

Draco caught Hermione’s eyes and he caught the exact moment it dawned on her that he probably _had_ heard part of their conversation.

 

Theo was watching Hermione as well, seemingly enjoying the way her cheeks were steadily heating.

 

Hermione sighed and banged her head on the desk, effectively hiding her face behind her curls.

 

“Theo, I suggest that you leave within the next ten seconds, before St. Mungo’s has another patient.” she mumbled.

 

Theo stared at her, then at Draco. Draco merely shrugged. It was not his business to interfere here. If anything, he was in for a good show.

 

“Seven seconds Theo.” Hermione warned.

 

Theo got up quickly and sprinted towards the fireplace. He hesitated for a second, turning to watch Hermione and Draco.

“You sure Hermione? I could already work on a trial version if you and Draco can just keep it decent for a day or tw-”

 

“I’m WARNING you!” Hermione raised her voice.

 

“Alright, alright! Merlin, sexually frustrated women can be a handful. Good luck Drake mate!” Theo rambled on before he disappeared. Hermione’s stinging hex only missed him by a hair. Draco figured she’d done that on purpose – she was a fierce duelist when it came down to it. If she wanted to hit something, or someone, she would.

 

Draco approached the desk, hands in his pockets. Hermione lifted her head again, ready for the interrogation she no doubt thought was coming. He had to give it to her. Even though she was dreading having to explain what that had been all about with Theo, she was facing it like the Gryffindor she was. Unlike Theo, who had opted to save his own skin first.

 

Draco could see Hermione was searching for a way to start the conversation and decided to let her off the hook. For now.

 

“How was your meeting?” he asked gently.

 

Hermione gave him a grateful smile.

“It’s like you said: he’s brilliant at what he does. His brain is a fountain of useful ideas. Pity the mouth comes with it too.”

 

Draco grinned. That was Theo for you.

Hermione got up and walked towards him, coming to a stop in front of him.

 

“How was your meeting at the Ministry?” she asked while she occupied her hands with picking invisible lint from his jacket. Draco quite enjoyed her fussing over him that way.

 

“Could have been worse – just House business to take care of. And I ran into Potter, who gives you his best.”

 

Hermione smiled, clearly happy that both him and Potter had been able to be civil towards each other. If it earned him smiles from her like that, he would put in the effort more often.

 

“It’s almost one, are you hungry?” Draco asked, knowing very well that she would not have eaten yet. He bet she hadn’t had breakfast either as she’d already been at the lab early in the morning, to catch up with the Elves.

 

“Yes.” Hermione replied, still playing with the lapels of his jacket. Draco looked down at her with fondness.

“Lets go somewhere Italian – I’m in a fresh pasta mood.”

 

Draco’s breath caught in his throat for a second. They’d never really been out together, not on a date, not for a meal, hell not even for a cup of tea or a stroll. And now she was so very casually suggesting that they go and have lunch together, in public.

 

Hermione seemed to sense his hesitation and bit her lip.

“It doesn’t have to be-”

“No, I want to-”

They both started at the same time. With a smile, Hermione went first.

 

“It doesn’t have to be here. We could go into Muggle London, no one would know us there.”

Draco leaned down and kissed her, short but sweetly.

 

“I’d love that.” he heard himself say.

 

While he was a little bit familiar with Muggles and their ways, he was glad Hermione would be there as well. It was one thing to go to a Muggle restaurant – not that different from dining in the wizarding world – or Apparate into an alley next to a night club to go out. It was another thing to have the full experience with Hermione.

 

She quickly scanned their outfits, deeming his suit and her skinny jeans and blouse normal enough to blend in.

 

“I know just the place.” she said before taking the arm he was holding up and Apparating them out.

 

*

 

Lunch turned into drinks and cake around teatime and now it was nearing seven o’clock. The place Hermione had chosen was a cozy little restaurant, with a friendly waiter – brother of the cook -  who gave them a private table in the back and didn’t bother them too much.

 

They enjoyed their excellent pasta dishes while conversation flowed from one topic to the next.

 

“Would they mind if we stayed for dinner as well?” Draco asked, not really wanting to go yet.

 

“Of course not!” came the very quick reply. “If anything, they already love us for being such good customers.”

 

Draco agreed, waving the waiter over so they could order another round of food and drinks.

They decided to keep it light, but Draco insisted on getting at least an excellent bottle of wine to accompany their dishes.

 

Which meant that after two glasses of the Barolo, Hermione was getting a bit more bold as well. She casually nestled her foot next to his during their meal, which Draco registered as accidental. But once their plates were cleared, he felt her foot again, clearly without a shoe on, grazing his ankle and slowing making its way up his leg.

 

Draco sat still, curious to see how far she would go in her teasing. By the sultry look she was giving him, she was in a playful mood.

Her foot climbed higher, and Draco shifted in his seat, feeling his blood shoot straight towards his groin.

 

With a sudden movement, Hermione stretched her leg fully between his legs, successfully finding his crotch and pressing a bit harder with her foot. She bit her lip at Draco’s initial shocked reaction as he nearly spit out his wine.

 

“Careful darling, you do not want to forget who you are playing with.” he said in a low voice, daring her to continue her little game.

 

Hermione however just sipped her wine casually and pushed against Draco’s arousal again, a little bit harder and a bit more demanding, wiggling her toes. A strangled, almost-hiss escaped Draco’s lips.

 

“Minx.” he whispered. Hermione laughed, a joyful tinkling sound that Draco could feel in his lower abdomen. But as she moved to withdraw her foot from Draco’s lap, Draco’s hand shot out and curled itself around her ankle, effectively holding it in place in a tight grip. Hermione raised one eyebrow at him, but Draco was not to be deterred. He grinned back devilishly.

 

“I will make you pay for that.” was his dark promise and it was Hermione’s turn to squirm in her seat.

“But first, I want to take you out and go dancing with you.”

 

Hermione laughed again and Draco released her foot with a soft caress.

“Alright. Show me your best moves Draco.”

 

Draco got up from his seat and left enough money for their bill plus a generous tip on the table.

“My best moves are not for the dance floor.” he teased as he helped Hermione getting up from her seat, holding her hand a bit longer than necessary.

 

*

 

Draco Apparated them into the alley next to his regular club. After the war, getting out of the Manor was out of the question. And it had not taken him long before he’d felt like the walls were closing in on him. Being forced to stay at the very place that held the worst memories for him was like the Cruciatus curse itself.

 

Without friends, the only escape he could find was ironically in the Muggle world.

When the sun had gone down, and the London night life found its pulsing heartbeat in the darkest clubs, that’s when Draco came out. That was were he could just be a young man with good looks, money to spend and a cool tattoo on his arm. Muggle girls had loved it, and he had not asked too many questions.

 

In the one month between the favorable outcome of his trial and the departure of the Hogwarts Express, he spent every night at his favourite club, finding comfort in liquor and nameless girls’ beds.

 

It was different now. Hermione was with him now.

After they’d both modified their clothing – hell, that little black form fitting dress of hers was doing things to him – he’d confidently guided her straight to the entrance. After giving the security guy the usual 50-pound handshake, they were being ushered in before the crowd waiting in line.

If Hermione had any questions about that, she didn’t ask them.

 

The thumping bass inside the club made it impossible for them to talk, but Draco didn’t mind one bit. He glued his palm to the warm skin of her lower back and deftly guided her through the crowd to his usual corner. While passing the waiter, who caught his eye, he signaled for two whiskies and water. Flashing his credit card always worked in the Muggle world.

 

By the time they’d settled into their secluded booth, their drinks were being delivered. Hermione just shot him and impressed pout before clinking her glass against his. She downed it in no time – faster than her reputation at Hogwarts would have allowed – and pulled Draco up and towards the dance floor.

 

The mass of bodies swallowed them and they had not choice but to move along the thumping beat. Hermione laughed and threw her arms in the air, waving in time with the music. Draco couldn’t help but grin and wasted no time, losing himself in the music and her.

 

Hermione spun around and wrapped one of his arms around her waist, while the other snaked up and around his neck. Draco didn’t hesitate and pulled her swaying body against his front, his hips copying the slow circles hers were making. Hermione leaned back and let him take over, lazily following his movements. Dancing had never felt so good, so sensual before. No other girl could ever compare to Hermione. His fierce lioness. And while Draco buried his nose in her neck, fingers gliding up and down her hot skin at her sides, he couldn’t help but whish this was the foreplay he’d been waiting for all night.

 

After a few more drinks and rounds on the dance floor – honestly, Draco needed the drinks to cope with a grinding Hermione even though he was careful not to have too much – he noticed that Hermione was getting tired. Her tipsiness probably did not help either.

 

He nodded his head towards the exit and grabbed Hermione’s hand, who followed him without protest.

 

Once outside, the cool night air was a welcome relief from the damp and sweaty underground club.

 

Hermione hadn’t released his hand yet, and playfully pulled him back towards her with a giggle.

Draco complied without comment and wrapped his arms around her petite frame as she snuggled into his chest. In that moment, in the middle of a London street at 3 in the morning, it felt perfect. Just perfect.

 

“Take me home, Draco.” Hermione mumbled against his collar bone, he breath hot against his skin.

 

For a second, Draco was confused. Then he huffed, angry at himself. While she was in no condition to Apparate safely, he had no clue where to go. It hit him like lightning that in all those months they’d been working together, in all that time she’d been coming over to his Manor for fucking sake, he had no idea where she went home at night. He felt embarrassed by the fact that it had never even occurred to him to ask her.

 

“I don’t know where that is Hermione.” he answered quietly.

 

Hermione looked up, a silly grin plastered on her face as she caught his eyes, completely oblivious to his soured mood.

 

“Then take me to your home, silly.”

 

It took him a full second to realise what she’d just asked. The implication of it. Then, it took him another three to kiss her, quick and hot and fiery. By the fifth second, they’d both whirled away with a soft pop.

 

*

 

Hermione stumbled a few steps inside his living room.

 

“Merlin, you better have some of our Sober Up potions stocked in here.”

 

Draco grimaced and Summoned two vials straight away, together with a pain potion against a potential headache for Hermione. For a heartbeat, he wondered whether she would change her mind once the fog of the alcohol had cleared up.

 

She thanked him wordlessly as she accepted both vials and emptied them in record-time. Draco held his breath.

 

She whirled around, curious to explore his place now. Draco stood back and let her, still on edge.

She walked around and turned towards one of the doors. She sent Draco a questioning look.

 

“Guest room.” he responded with a tight voice. “My bedroom on the far right, with adjoining master bathroom.”

 

Hermione walked towards the furthest door, sending him a smoldering look over her shoulder. Draco bit his lip and slowly followed her, his initial and unnecessary fear dissipating at once. He loved it when her playful side came out – it was irresistible. He could feel the anticipation building in his body, feeling the tight heat pooling low in his abdomen.

 

Hermione had reached the door now, hand already on the doorknob.

With a few quick strides Draco closed the gap between them. He reached out, his hand snaking around her waist. With an urgency that even would have surprised him had Draco had time to even notice such thing, he turned her around to face him. The intense desire in his eyes was the only warning Hermione got, before Draco’s other hand moulded to the back of her head and pull her closer.

 

His hot lips crashed into hers, smothering her soft noise of surprise with them. She recovered quickly however and closed her eyes in delight as she returned his kiss, which seemed to break the dam that had been holding back all the passion inside Draco. Inside both of them.

 

She opened so easily for him. Draco did not know what reaction he had expected from her, but this was almost more than what he had dared to hope. He should have known that the passion he felt for her would be returned with the same fiery need – their previous intimate moments should have been indication enough.

 

His lips caressed hers, moved hungrily, demanded a response. And she did not disappoint. Her lips followed his as she grasped his jacket, trapping her arms between them as she pulled herself closer to him. The feeling of her soft body leaning against his hard muscled one was almost too much.

 

With a low groan, he delved his tongue inside her mouth as he walked her backwards two steps until her back met with his bedroom door. Never breaking the kiss, he used non-verbal magic to open it. He moved his hand from her waist to her hip, holding it immobilised against his body, under his control.

 

Draco pushed her further into the bedroom, closing the door with his magic once again. He broke off the kiss just long enough to catch his breath, and noticed she was panting just as heavily as he was.

 

Hermione looked at him from under her eyelashes, her lips slightly parted and swollen from their hungry kisses. She moved her hands up, stroking his chest, then his neck, until she buried her fingers in his hair, tugging impatiently at his locks. Her eyes were dark with lust, only a hint of the usual bright brown remaining.

 

“Draco” she breathed, almost pleaded, and Draco knew that in this moment, right there, he fully lost his heart to this wonderful, delicious witch. To taste her and claim her as his now, he would have done _anything._ To know that she was his, made him feel victorious.

 

Instead of returning to her lips again, he tilted his head and fastened his lips tenderly to her throat. Hermione shivered beneath him and he could feel her pulse quicken under his lips. She tilted her head to one side, allowing him full access to her neck and body.

 

Draco nipped his way down her neck, licking and tasting her sweet skin. He’d fantasized about this, but those thoughts paled in comparison to _this_. She was right here with him, passionate, willing and seemingly surrendering to him. It drove Draco insane with need. He needed her. _Now_.

 

Draco summoned his magic, intending to swiftly discard their clothing. He did not have the patience to wait any longer and Hermione’s soft moans only fueled his passion.

 

However, he felt Hermione pull back. Draco looked up for a moment, abandoning Hermione’s collarbone to shoot her a silent and very impatient question.

 

To his surprise, Hermione gently shook her head.

 

“No Draco, I only want you. You and me. No magic. Nothing else.” she whispered.

 

Draco groaned, not wanting to let go of the control he had had until right now, but did not hesitate to pull Hermione’s dress from her shoulders, baring them to his lips.

 

“You’ll be my undoing.” Draco protested half-heartedly.

 

Hermione chuckled. “Good, that means we are even.”

 

She did not waste much time on Draco’s jacket. Her hands impatiently roamed his chest until she let them slip underneath his shirt, finally touching his bare skin. Meanwhile, her lips latched onto the upper part of his chest that had become visible now.

 

Draco smirked smugly as he enjoyed her exploration of his abdomen, but hissed as she moved higher and scratched one of his nipples with her nails.

 

“Not very wise, my darling.” Draco whispered darkly. Within moments, his hands had returned to their previous task and his deft fingers were unzipping the back of her dress. He’d been suppressing his desire for her long enough.

 

Draco quickly made work of the dress and roughly pulled down the bodice, letting the precious fabric pool around Hermione’s ankles. Draco took one second to admire the matching black lace set she was wearing, before he quickly got rid of that too. She was finally beautifully, deliciously naked. He wasted no time taking her into his arms again, lifting her from the ground so he could easily maneuver both of them to the bed. Hermione instinctively wrapped her legs around his waist, and pressed her hips against his, undoubtedly feeling how hard he was.

 

Draco growled as she rolled her hips, causing a delicious, but almost painful friction against his groin. He nipped at her neck as a punishment, but it only made her gasp in delight and press her body closer to his in return.

 

With a few long strides, Draco carried Hermione towards his bed, only to smoothly turn around and sit on the edge of the bed, making her straddle him.

 

She quickly got rid of his shirt, impatiently tugging it off. Without a second thought, Draco removed his remaining clothes with magic, which earned him a chuckle from Hermione.

 

“Why, my Slytherin Prince, you do not seem to have much patience tonight.” she teased, as she rocked her hips, slowly rubbing against his erection and slickening it with her own wetness.

 

Upon his encouraging squeeze of her bottom, she lifted her hips and agonisingly slowly lowered herself onto him. While she gradually adjusted to his size within her, Draco reveled in how tight she felt around him. Another roll of her hips took him in to the hilt, and Draco groaned in approval. Salazar, this felt so incredibly good he knew he would lose himself in her in no time.

 

Hermione held on to Draco’s shoulders as she started moving on top of him. First slow, as if she wanted to feel every inch of him sliding in and out of her, then gradually speeding up. Draco turned his attention to her breasts, lovingly sucking and licking them, which caused Hermione to start panting.

 

His hands were still on her buttocks, kneading the soft flesh and pulling her closer every time he entered her again. Draco let himself fall back onto the bed, allowing himself to lift his hips in order to penetrate her deeper. Hermione gasped at his movement and increased her pace.

 

Draco let her ride him for a little while longer, feeling her tighten in anticipation of her climax.

Then, he moved both his hands to keep her hips in place and rolled her onto her back so he could take over again.

 

The soft smile on Hermione’s face told him that she knew he’d not allow her to keep control until they both finished. That smiled quickly turned into a soundless gasp as Draco drove into her with more determination and force.

 

She continued panting his name, and other nonsense and he continued pounding into her, showing no mercy as she clawed at his back. His fiery, urgent lovemaking demanded equally passionate reactions from her, and he loved her responsiveness. She was so passionate, completely giving herself to his mercy that it nearly pushed him over the edge.

 

Every moan of her, every roll of her hips in an attempt to find that bliss only he could give her now made Draco feel more victorious. His need for her overwhelmed him.

 

Draco nipped and sucked at Hermione’s neck and he felt her walls tighten around him more and more, her passion mounting with every thrust. He licked his way up to her ear, and as he felt her writhe and raise her hips against his in response, he gently bit her, leaving her no room to escape.

 

“Come for me, my darling.” Draco whispered, “I will not make you beg… this time.”

 

He felt her walls clench around him as her climax washed over her. The sight of her beautifully distorted face as she gasped for air, her nails digging into his skin as she shivered in ecstasy;  it was all it took to push Draco over the edge as well. His hips moved a few more times within her as he erratically rode out his climax before stilling completely on top of her.

 

They both lay in silence, enjoying slowly coming down from their highs.

Hermione leisurely started caressing Draco’s back until he pushed himself up just enough to look her in the eye. She smiled up warmly at him, then buried her face in the nape of his neck to press a tender kiss there.

 

“So…” she started, shooting him a seductive glance.

 

“What did you promise again about begging?”

 

Draco grinned dangerously at her and raised an eyebrow in warning, before he attacked once more and made her squeal.

 

And beg. Twice.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter sneak peak:
> 
> _‘Property of House Malfoy’ the first paged said, right above the title: ‘Pure Principles of Politeness and Magical Manners – part I’._
> 
> _“Etiquette?” Hermione asked, confused as to why she had never seen such a book before._
> 
> _“Pureblood etiquette.” Draco nodded, running a finger along the spine of one of the other books._


	18. Chapter 18

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's the morning after, and our lovebirds could not be happier.
> 
> And of course, Narcissa has to make an appearance as well (because really, she just knows everything that is going on).

Hermione lazily woke to the feeling of fingers drawing patterns on her naked back. A heartbeat later, her eyes shot open and she was wide awake, remembering just who was drawing those patterns. Lying still for a moment longer, she tried to discern what it was Draco was doing. She vaguely recognised letters… L… F… O…

 

“Are you writing your name on my back?” she asked, looking over her shoulder and stifling a chuckle at Draco’s seemingly innocent eyes.

 

He replaced his fingers with his lips, kissing his way up her spine until he could nuzzle her neck.

 

“Morning.” he hummed.

 

Hermione shifted slightly under the sheets, until she could feel his warm chest pressing against her back. Draco didn’t need much more encouragement to wrap his free arm around her waist and pull her into his embrace.

 

“I could get used to this.” Draco murmured against her ear.

 

Hermione sighed contently. She was someone who gave herself a hundred percent once she had made a decision. And with Draco… after he had told her he wanted her, _really_ wanted a chance with her… it was hard not to start feeling light-headed and dream away. Some part of her was still cautious – after all, how well did she really know him? And did she fully trust him based on what she knew? But that didn’t mean she could not enjoy this peaceful and intimate moment. She had been alone for so long.

 

Draco pushed one of his legs in between hers, making Hermione aware of not only his own arousal pressing against her arse, but also of that familiar ache between her own legs.

 

“I’m sure there are better ways to claim a woman than branding her with your surname on her back, don’t you think?” she teased.

 

She more felt than heard his appreciative rumble.

“Granger.” he warned her, voice dangerously low.

 

“Yes Draco.” she sighed, and it was all he needed to get lost in her again.

 

 

*

 

 

Hermione hummed as she entered her office at Diagon Alley. Things were going well. _Very_ well.

She absentmindedly touched the tender skin of her throat where Draco had nipped his way down only half an hour ago, until he had been on his knees with his head between her legs. She shivered as she remembered how good it had felt. He certainly was talented with his tongue, not only when it came to words.

 

Ever since their night together – and the lovely morning after – it seemed that he’d been dropping the carefulness he’d been displaying around her in the previous months. Where his touches had been casual, almost accidental – _still very much doubting that –_ now they were playful and very deliberate. He touched her whenever he could, worshipping her body with his hands and mouth.

And ever since that night last week, she’d been staying over at his place, not wanting to return to her cold bed. His place was much nicer than hers anyway.

 

She’d been surprised to discover in broad daylight the morning after that the view from Draco’s bedroom window had not been what she’d expected. She’d always assumed he was living at the Manor. That’s where he had lived his whole life. The Manor’s Orangery was where they had been meeting prior to acquiring their building at Diagon Alley. To find out that Draco called a most gorgeous penthouse apartment in a wizarding community in Chelsea his home, was a slight shock to put it lightly. The view was gorgeous, the place luxurious and there was a 24/7 House Elf service available, although Draco preferred his own Elf. Hermione had not been very keen on returning to her own small space after that one night. Draco had not protested in the least that she had been warming his bed every night since. And even though it was clear that no money or effort was spared when it came to Draco’s place, she had not trouble admitting that it started to feel like home a little bit more every day.

 

It was almost scaring how well Draco seemed to attune to her likes, dislikes, moods and habits. And while he spoiled her in some things, he did not have much sympathy for her in others. He kept her on her toes, in all the good and bad ways, but always respected her. Hermione felt like pinching herself, not fully believing what she was experiencing. But then again, they’d been dancing around each other since that last year at Hogwarts. While Hermione had only recently caught on regarding her feelings for Draco, she had a tiny suspicion that he’d been holding back for much longer. He had taken a hit for her during the battle, after all.

 

“I have an excellent Glamour charm for that if you like.” a familiar and amused voice came from the couch near the fireplace.

Hermione whirled around, finger trying to cover the lovebite – and failing miserably - not knowing what to say for a second.

 

“Narcissa!” she quickly greeted, hurrying over to the matriarch, slightly embarrassed by being caught out by the mother of her lover. _Lover._ Was that what she could call Draco? Or was it already more? Hermione wished they had taken the time to clear that up, but it was a topic she did not know how to breach with Draco without feeling like a teenage girl.

 

“You look radiant this morning, Hermione. Malfoy charm?” Narcissa smiled indulgently.

Hermione did catch on the double meaning and was certain that she was definitely blushing _now_.

 

“Can I offer you anything to drink?” Hermione decided to ignore the question and knowing glance of Narcissa.

 

“No thank you, I will not trouble you for too long.” Narcissa waved her off. “I would not want to disturb your and Draco’s plans.”

 

Although Narcissa sounded so innocent and perfectly pleasant, Hermione felt like the society queen looked right through her. _Well, she didn’t survive Slytherin House, Pureblood circles and Voldemort in her Manor by wearing fancy dresses alone._

 

“I merely stopped by to deliver this personally to you.” Narcissa rose from her seat – always so fucking elegant! – and held out a cream coloured envelope with Hermione’s name on it.

 

Confused, Hermione accepted it. After a few seconds of Narcissa staring at her expectantly, Hermione turned towards the desk to open the letter.

 

The expensive parchment, which also smelled heavenly of cinnamon, pine and firewood, revealed an invitation for Narcissa’s Christmas Ball, on December 25th.

 

Catching Hermione’s hesitation, Narcissa stepped forward.

“I know it’s quite early to send out these already while the event is still months away, but I wanted to ensure your presence there and did not know whether you would have any plans with friends or family.”

 

“No, not really.” Hermione said.

 

“So you’ll come?” Narcissa asked, joy shining from her eyes. There was no way Hermione could refuse. After all, she did not want to cross her lover’s/boyfriend’s/whatever Draco’s label was now’s mother.

 

Hermione nodded.

 

Narcissa beamed and twirled around, gathering her purse and gloves.

“You will love it, I promise!” she exclaimed, and Hermione just stood there and nodded again.

As Narcissa disappeared through the fireplace again after a hasty kiss in the air next to Hermione’s cheek, Hermione wondered just what the hell she had agreed to.

 

 

*

 

“Thank you.”

 

Draco’s voice came from the doorway and Hermione almost did not hear him over the bubbling cauldron she’d been bent over.

 

“What for?” she asked without looking up, focusing on her test batch instead.

 

“For indulging my mother and coming to her ball. It means a great deal to her to have you attending.” Draco continued as he approached.

 

“However, this means I should probably hand you these.” Draco said as he placed something on the table next to her cauldron. Hermione, ever the curious one, glanced sideways. There were three leatherbound, old and well-read books on the table. No titles.

 

Hermione frowned at them, casting a quick stasis charm over her cauldron before carefully picking up the first one and opening it.

 

 _‘Property of House Malfoy’_ the first paged said, right above the title: _‘Pure Principles of Politeness and Magical Manners – part I’._

“Etiquette?” Hermione asked, confused as to why she had never seen such a book before.

 

“Pureblood etiquette.” Draco nodded, running a finger along the spine of one of the other books.

 

“Every Pureblood House has its own set, to be passed down from generation to generation.”

 

Draco closed the distance between them and came to stand next to her. He gently opened the book and leafed through it.

 

“Most of these rules are outdated, but a lot of the traditions are still being followed.” he explained.

 

“ _’A witch shall only dance upon invitation of a wizard and shall not lightly refuse a dance with a wizard when invited.’_ – this is bullshit.” Hermione read, slightly irritated.

 

“As I said, most of them are outdated, even though it still is considered rude to refuse to dance without a decent excuse.” Draco appeased her. “Just like wizards should take care that all invited witches have at least had a spin on the dancefloor. Ignoring a lady who was invited to the ball is only humiliating for her. In the end, a dance doesn’t always have to mean anything.”

 

Hermione blinked. She’d known that wizarding society was slightly archaic, but the Purebloods seemed to have gotten stuck in the nineteenth century. Suddenly Hermione was glad for her Muggle upbringing, allowing her to think and act with less reservation than the everyday witch.

 

“Mother will insist on us opening the ball. And I figured that it wouldn’t hurt to quell your thirst for knowledge on the subject either. The last thing I want is for you to feel ignorant of Pureblood ballroom etiquette when invited to the society event of the winter.”

 

“Thanks.” Hermione mumbled, not quite able to wrap her head around this. As much as she would look forward to the ball if it was anything like the Yule Ball at Hogwarts, she couldn’t help but feel like she had to study for examinations – practical tests at that.

 

Draco’s hand brushed her side before resting on her hip.

 

“And of course, I’m at your disposal to brush up any dancing skills.”

 

“Yes, let’s start with those.” Hermione nodded. At least something she was good at.

 

 

*

 

 

Later that night, after a most frustrating afternoon full of failed potion experiments, Draco had convinced Hermione to retreat upstairs in one of the empty rooms. He’d gotten a charmed music box from somewhere and it was now playing a lively waltz.

 

“My lady,” Draco bowed formally, holding out his hand. “would you do me the honour of sharing this dance with me?”

 

Hermione bit her lip and attempted to act all serious. Which was hard with Draco’s flair for drama.

 

“It would be my pleasure, Lord Malfoy.” she replied and quickly dropped in a courtsey.

 

Draco drew his wand, waved it once while murmuring something under his breath and in an instant, Hermione’s simple blue summer dress was transformed into a floorlenght, full-skirted version of it.

 

“Perfect.” came Draco’s purr, before he took hold of her hand and pulled her closer.

 

As Hermione placed her left hand on his shoulder, she noticed that Draco kept on pulling her closer.

“Lord Malfoy!” she gasped, playing the part of the shocked witch. “I am not certain your books mention this.”

 

“Shh” Draco soothed “I’m an expert at this.”

 

Without further warning, he pulled her into the dance, guiding her perfectly across the room, in tune with the music. Dancing with him felt effortlessly.

 

After a comfortable minute of twirling around, Draco broke the silence.

 

“What were you and Theo talking about that involved sex?”

 

Hermione almost stumbled, taken aback by the directness of his question.

 

“What?”

 

Draco cocked an eyebrow at her, not fooled by her question.

Hermione cleared her throat.

 

“Anti-conception potion. If we can incorporate a charm to make the effects last, witches would only be required to take it once a month, not daily like the potion now.” Hermione couldn’t help but blush. She was not used to discussing this kind of topic with a man – Theo being the exception, just because he was Theo and got away with everything.

 

Draco nodded, but Hermione noticed that his shoulders relaxed a bit, as if he was relieved to hear that their conversation about sex had been innocent. Hermione did not know what he had expected; Draco, as reserved as he could be in public, should know that she was not one to gossip about private matters. Especially not with his friends.

 

“Afraid that he’ll charm me into testing the potion?” Hermione teased, knowing that bantering with Draco always lifted both their spirits.

 

“I don’t know what to think.” Draco shrugged nonchalantly. “I have heard you have a weakness for Slytherins after all.”

 

Hermione smiled up coyly at Draco at the feeling of his fingers sliding lower from her hip towards the curve of her arse.

 

“Only for certain types.”

 

“Is that so?”

 

“Yes.” Hermione sighed dreamily. “Seekers. You see, they have these flexible, nimble fingers with a lot of strength in them.”

 

Draco’s second hand let of Hermione’s to slide down her body towards her arse cheeks as well. He cupped her behind and pulled her flush against him.

 

“And how would you know these things about a Seeker’s hands and fingers?” Draco drawled as his hands started kneading. Hermione had to swallow a moan. She could feel his distinct arousal through their layers of clothing.

 

“You see, I once knew a Seeker named Vikto-” Hermione started, but shrieked as Draco cut her off by forcefully grinding his hips into hers and biting down her neck.

 

“Let me be clear.” he warned, his hands never stopping their movements, which were driving Hermione slowly but surely insane. Draco was all but making love to her, standing upright, fully clothed. And she could not get enough.

 

“The only name I want to hear from now on is mine.” Draco hissed. “Mine.”

 

“Yes.” Hermione gasped, losing focus because of the delicious friction he was providing.

 

“Say it.” Draco demanded before closing his lips over her earlobe and sucking it. Hermione felt her knees buckle, but Draco’s hands were keeping her upright as he continued dry-humping her.

 

“Say that you are mine.”

 

It wasn’t a question.

 

Draco pushed one of his legs between Hermione’s, offering her the pressure she needed.

 

“Say it.” he whispered.

 

“Draco” Hermione panted, feeling her orgasm approaching with a speed that would have embarrassed her had she not been so distracted by feeling his pulse against her skin and his hardness against her clit.

 

“You’re mine.”

 

“Yes.”

 

“ _Mine.”_

“Yours – AH!” Hermione shrieked as her orgasm washed over her. Draco held her close to him, keeping that delicious pressure right _there_ as she rode out wave after wave.

 

He held onto her while she regained her senses, tenderly kissing her cheeks, her forehead and her hair.

 

“Mine.” he whispered.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter sneak peak:
> 
> _She gave him a weak smile and squeezed his hand.  
>  “This reminds me of the holidays I used to have with my parents. Back when-”  
> She faltered and it broke Draco’s heart a little bit to see her suddenly so lost._
> 
> _“Before the war.” she continued. She turned to face him, looking him straight in the eye and Draco could tell she was gathering her courage to confess something painful.  
> _


	19. Chapter 19

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Theo has a confession to make, as well as Hermione.

“I recognise that look in Draco’s eyes, you know.” Theo commented offhandedly.

 

Hermione thought it would be wisest to just ignore Theo. That usually was the way to go with the wizard anyway.

 

She went over her notes again, content with the outcome of their test batches. Soon, the Blue Potion would hit the market and witches would be able to easily protect themselves for longer periods of time, at a cheaper price. Hermione felt proud at that accomplishment.

 

“The way he looks at you – for a Malfoy, that’s practically skipping down the hallways while whistling and twirling your underwear around his finger.” Theo continued, not in the least discouraged by Hermione’s silence.

 

“Who says there was any underwear?” Hermione decided to shoot back.

 

Theo whistled. “Miss Granger! Never took you for the saucy type. But then again, those bookworms… Work hard, play hard they say.”

 

“Says the Slytherin bookworm.”

 

Theo waggled his eyebrows suggestively.

“Wouldn’t you like to know?”

 

“Theo! Stop tempting me so!” Hermione laughed, dramatically waving her papers as if she desperately needed to cool herself down.

 

“Nah, you’re not my type.” Theo dismissed her with a wave of his hand before concentrating on his wandwaving again, perfecting his charm. Really, how he could be so good at this with his incessant chattering was a mystery to Hermione.

 

“Who is your type then?” Hermione asked, abandoning her completed potion and coming to lean against Theo’s workbench.

“Because really, I would do anything to get you off the market and out of my hair.”

 

“You don’t mean that.” Theo tutted. “You love me.”

 

“I do.” Hermione winked. “So? Which witch?”

 

Theo glanced away, seemingly uncomfortable.

 

“Theeooo” Hermione sang.

 

Theo sighed and turned towards her.

 

“I am only telling you this because you’re a Muggleborn and would probably understand – unlike the rest of our society. And because I’ll deny anything if you ever spill to anyone else AND will tell Narcissa embarrassing details about your underwear.”

 

Hermione nodded, understanding that he was no longer teasing.

 

“When you say I am not your type, you mean…” she began, slowly realizing what he’d meant with the wizarding society being too archaic to understand.

 

“Yes.” Theo sighed.

 

“Does Draco know?”

 

A shake of his head.

 

For a few seconds, there was only silence. Then Hermione pushed herself off the workbench and walked back towards her cauldron.

 

“Just one thing Theo. If I ever so much as catch you ogling my wizard, you’re a dead man.”

 

Theo grinned at her. Hermione grinned right back.

 

“Too late Granger.”

 

 

*

 

It was already nearing seven in the evening, but Draco was too excited to wait. If he knew Hermione and Theo, they would probably have lost track of time and were still down in the lab. Apparating straight to the shop’s office, he noticed that all lights had been dimmed. So the lab it would be.

 

Draco flew down the stairs and recognised the two familiar voices the moment he opened the basement’s door.

 

“Admit it Hermione, it _is_ more potent this way.” Theo’s voice sounded gleeful.

 

“Well, we will not know for sure until we-“

 

“Bullshit, and you know it. Just admit that I was right and you were wrong. Come on, it isn’t that hard. Repeat after me: ‘Theo, you are an absolutely brilliant wizard and I should never have doubted you and I never shall again doubt your intelligence. I was so wrong and beg for your forgiveness now.’”

 

Draco strained to catch Hermione’s grumbling, but couldn’t make out any words. He knew he should not be eavesdropping, but he was just too curious about the interactions between the two. Theo was the type of person whom, when he truly let his guard down, you either loved or hated. It seemed that with Hermione, Theo’s charm and wit had worked to his advantage. They worked together like a Pensieve and a memory vial: both very different, yet producing the most accurate results together. And from personal experience, Draco knew that Hermione did not shy away from any form of verbal sparring. He even had his suspicions that she secretly enjoyed that immensely with someone who could keep up with that lightning fast brain of hers. Someone like him, and now maybe Theo too.

 

“I bet Malfoy can make you beg.” Theo taunted.

 

Draco felt his cheeks flush. If only Theo knew how close to the truth he was. And how prettily Hermione panted Draco’s name, chanting her ‘please’ and ‘yes, right there’ in between labored breaths.

 

“Jealous Theo?” Hermione shot back. Draco grinned. She would not let him best her. He decided to interfere before Theo got a chance to wrangle confessions out of Hermione.

 

“That’s a given, Hermione. Which wizard would not be jealous of me, seeing you by my side?” Draco said as he descended the stairs with a cocky smirk.

 

Hermione and Theo whipped their heads around.

 

“Draco!” Hermione smiled and walked over to plant a light kiss on his lips. Draco felt his heart swell with pride at the small gesture. He could get used to this so easily.

 

“Malfoy.” Theo nodded.

 

“You really should see what we’ve done to this camouflaging potion. Theo’s brilliant idea,” she cast a telling glance at the mentioned wizard “to add the Disillusionment charm and trap it inside the pill we will be distilling from the potion, will change the outcome entirely! Imagine: being all but invisible for up to an hour by just swallowing a pill.”

 

Theo smirked victoriously at Hermione’s compliment and Draco felt as if he was missing out on a joke between the two of them.

 

“Sounds excellent! Any chance we might strengthen the distillate in order to lengthen the duration of the effect?” Draco asked, wrapping his hand around Hermione’s waist. “We could strike a deal with magical enforcement instances, offering them the exclusivity of stronger products.”

 

Hermione smiled up at him, clearly agreeing with his line of thought.

 

“But that will have to wait for another time. I have news.” Draco stated.

 

“We have been officially invited to attend the Potions Guild Conference in Japan next month.” With flourish, Draco pulled the invitation from his robes and flicked it open for Theo and Hermione to read.

 

“How?” Theo asked. “These types of conferences are limited to members only.”

 

Draco glanced at Hermione.

“I have my connections.”

 

Understanding that he was talking about Snape dawned on Hermione.

 

Theo whistled. “Impressive. That is a golden ticket ladies and gentlemen.”

 

Draco nodded.

“What do you think? Ready to Portkey to Kanazawa in two weeks?” he asked Hermione.

 

“Ready if you are.” she smiled up at him. Draco got lost her dark brown eyes, feeling the warmth of her gaze speeding up his heartbeat just a notch.

 

“We should celebrate this!” Theo interrupted. “Somewhere fancy, with champagne! My treat!”

 

Even though Draco figured that Theo wanted the company for dinner just as much as he wanted to celebrate, he wasn’t one to pass up an opportunity where Theo was paying. He had excellent taste.

 

And that was how they ended up in a fancy wizarding restaurant in Errenteria, Spain. Where Theo had gotten those Portkeys seemingly out of nowhere, Draco did not know. His best guess was that, like Draco himself, Theo had a few official ones for family visits. But like Draco himself, he probably had just as many unregistered ones for emergencies. Especially after the war, Draco kept two of them on him at all times. He wondered whether it was too early to provide Hermione with one as well. While it would certainly do wonders for his distrusting and protective nature, he wasn’t sure how she would take such proposal from him. Their relationship was still very new and Draco knew better than to rush into a full official courtship like he would have done had Hermione been a traditional Pureblood girl.

 

He wondered if she’d ever noticed that he had never had an official girlfriend before. He wondered if she had been overthinking the fact that he officially did not call her his girlfriend either. Despite the fact that Draco almost desperately wanted to put a claim on Hermione in public, the concept of a girlfriend didn’t sit well with him either. It felt… fleeting, like a label to put on a young and experimental thing that didn’t involve the deep feelings he currently had for her.

He hoped that she would not ask him about it anytime too soon, for it would inevitably lead to very heartfelt confessions and commitments from his side – and Draco knew she was not ready for that yet.

 

They enjoyed the excellent twelve course menu, each dish accompanied by only the best wine. Conversation flowed easily between the three, almost as if they’d all been friends for longer than just a few months. How trivial Hogwarts House rivalries suddenly seemed. Draco briefly wondered if this is what they could have had if there had been no such a thing as blood prejudice and the war.

 

Draco couldn’t help but distract Hermione during dinner, with little touches here and there. A thankful squeeze in her hand as she defended Draco against Theo’s teasing. A gentle caress to push back a curl behind her ear as she was explaining something to him. A brush of legs under the table. Draco thoroughly enjoyed her reactions.

 

At last, when the final dishes had been cleared from the table and they all were enjoying a glass of delicious scotch, Theo proposed to take a walk in the restaurant’s garden. A glance in Draco’s direction however told Draco that Theo would leave the couple alone. Draco was grateful to be ending the perfect evening with a romantic stroll with Hermione.

 

After a silent few minutes outside on the terrace, Draco noticed that a shadow of sadness had fallen over Hermione’s face.

He carefully reached out and entangled his fingers with hers.

 

“Care to tell me what is on your mind?” he asked. Whatever it was, Draco hoped that Hermione trusted him enough to share it with him.

 

She gave him a weak smile and squeezed his hand.

“This reminds me of the holidays I used to have with my parents. Back when-”

She faltered and it broke Draco’s heart a little bit to see her suddenly so lost.

 

“Before the war.” she continued. She turned to face him, looking him straight in the eye and Draco could tell she was gathering her courage to confess something painful.

 

“Before I Obliviated them and wiped their own daughter from their minds.”

Hermione looked down at her shoes, too emotional too maintain the eye contact.

 

Draco didn’t, couldn’t say a thing – no words would be enough. So he did the one thing he believed he could do: he wrapped Hermione in his arms and pulled her close, until she was completely shielded from the world. As he pulled her in tighter, he wished that he could really shield her from harm and heartache. She melted into his embrace, leaning on him as if she desperately needed the support. And maybe she did. Maybe for once she didn’t want to be the strong one who always knew what to do.

 

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, Hermione.” Draco murmured in her hair. Now he understood why she had been so reluctant to answer questions about her parents. Why she had not invited them to any events. Why she did not have any plans for Christmas Eve yet. There had been no one to celebrate it with.

 

Hermione drew in a shaky breath.

“I knew they would be targeted, and with the Ministry being infiltrated and the Order focusing on more important matters… I just made the decision. Wiped their memories, sent them away. Last thing I heard from the Australian Ministry last summer, is that they’ve settled in in Melbourne and opened a dentist practice – they’re teeth Healers.”

 

“Have you seen them since?” Draco inquired, not letting go of her just yet. He knew she had done the right thing to hide her parents. During the war Muggleborns’ families had been tracked down and tortured and killed for no specific reasons at all. Just because they had ties with someone who accidentally had shown magical talent. Hermione’s parents… there was no doubt they would have been useful to Voldemort. Draco shuddered at the memories of the few ‘interrogations’ he’d had to witness.

 

“No. I do not want to trigger any memories that might harm them or undo the Obliviation. I think I have tampered enough with their minds as it is… I’ve been informed that despite the fact that they should not have any recollection of ever having a child, they did adopt a girl in Australia soon after they’d arrived. I just cannot…”

Her voice cracked and Draco pulled her head against his chest, smothering her silent sobs.

 

“Shh.” he soothed. “I’m here. I’m here.”

He was. And he would be, for as long as she wanted him.

 

They didn’t linger too long after that, collecting Theo and their Portkeys back inside.

 

If Theo noticed that Hermione was unusually quiet and had red rimmed eyes, he didn’t mention it. They quietly Portkeyed back home and then Apparated to Malfoy’s place.

 

After tucking in Hermione with the promise that he would see Theo out and join her right after that, Draco made his way back to the sitting room, where Theo was pacing.

 

“The War?” he inquired.

 

Draco nodded solemnly, hiding his hands in his pockets.

 

Theo halted and turned towards Draco.

“Well, it was bound to come up at some point. For years, you both have been on the opposite sides of the line.”

 

Draco sighed and wiped his face with a hand.

“That line wasn’t always very clear Theo, you know that as well as me.”

 

“Oh yes, I heard about your recklessness during the battle to protect her, to make sure Voldemort would not win. But still, you two come from very different places.”

 

“What is that supposed to mean?” Draco snapped. He did not like where this conversation was going. If it were up to him, he never wanted to think of the things he’d done in the past, the things he’d said to her and the choices he hadn’t been able to make. But then again, in the end, he _had_ made the right choice for him. And she _had_ given him that second chance he so had craved. Draco knew that with Hermione by his side, he could become the person he wanted to be, not the product of his family’s history and beliefs.

 

“Come on mate.” Theo sighed. “You are the rich Pureblood heir of one of the oldest Houses – make that two, the Black title is yours as well. Even though you have rebelled against your parents and chosen a different direction for your House, Pureblood tradition and history are an inherent part of your identity – it’s in your blood, ironically enough. She is the Muggleborn Golden Princess, savior of the Wizarding world even though she doesn’t even know the full extent of what that world is about, what its history is or how difficult it is to enforce changes. And while I do not doubt that your feelings for her are genuine, or hers for you, it is just not as simple as to forget and move one in a new direction.”

 

Draco sighed, knowing Theo was right, but unwilling to accept this.

“We can make it work. We _will_ make it work.” he decided. Hermione was worth it.

 

Theo grimaced.

“Oh I know you always get what you want Draco, no matter the cost. But think what you are willing to sacrifice for her, because you’ll have to. Think about how this affects her, or any future little Malfoys.”

 

Draco frowned and opened his mouth to respond, but Theo was quicker.

 

“I know you Draco, better than anyone. I see the way you look at her. Once you make your choice, there is no way back for you. I know you want Hermione, to be your partner, your wife, your Lady of the House and the mother of your children. So why haven’t you given her a token of your commitment to her yet, as customary in our circles? As tradition requires?”

 

“I…” Draco tried. Theo was right. If his witch had been a Pureblood or Halfblood, he would not have hesitated to make their courtship official by gifting her something that would confirm the seriousness of the relationship. It would not only be a gift to express the depth of his commitment towards the witch – a lifelong one at that – but also a way of announcing the courtship to the world. However, Draco had not given anything to Hermione yet. While he was very sure of his own feelings and was confident that Hermione was not toying with him, he did not know what her reaction to such traditional gesture would be. Or whether she understood the importance and meaning of it, the commitment it entailed. He was aware that Muggles made use of such symbolism as well, but did not want to rush Hermione into something she might misunderstand. And while he had given her those books on Pureblood traditions, he felt it was right to wait before broaching the subject.

 

“Different worlds.” Theo nodded, Draco’s silence confirming his thoughts. “But if anyone can make it work, it’s you, you stubborn git.”

 

Draco smirked at his friend. “Thanks?”

 

“And with those wise words, I’ll take my leave.” Within the blink of an eye, the seriousness of the conversation had dissipated and Theo was his jovial self again.

 

“Oh and Draco mate?”

 

“Hm?”

 

“I make an excellent best man, but you already knew that.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _“Reservation under Malfoy.” Draco stated nonchalantly._
> 
> _“Not Kaizen?” Hermione frowned._
> 
> _Draco sent her an apologetic but smug smirk.  
>  “Contrary to the situation in Great Britain, the name still opens many doors in the other wizarding societies. And got us the penthouse here. Just let me spoil you this once.”_
> 
> _Ignoring the mention of the penthouse, Hermione couldn’t hold back her curiosity.  
>  “Why remain in Great Britain then?”_


	20. Chapter 20

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Our couple is off to Japan!

“So, I’m supposed to wait to start up a conversation until you’ve introduced me to the wizard in question…”

Hermione fidgeted with Draco’s etiquette book, trying to cram the hundreds of silly little rules on how to behave around Purebloods into her head before their departure to Japan.

 

Draco’s warm hand closed itself around her fingers and pried the book loose.

 

“Relax Hermione.” he laughed. “And may I remind you: that only applies to a Lord’s Lady and his children. Or his guests. Not that that particular rule has ever been respected in any other situations than meeting a country leader.”

 

Hermione blushed fiercely at Draco’s growing smirk. Did he just mention meeting country leaders? Just _how_ important were the Malfoys outside of Great Britain?

 

“And as far as I’m aware, you are none of those.” he continued under his breath.

Hermione could almost feel the ‘ _yet_ ’ roll off his tongue. But Draco did not need to say it, his eyes betrayed his feelings in that very moment. It made Hermione’s heart clench. In a good way, because she treasured those little glimpses of the true extent of Draco’s feelings for her. Because it was something she had always wanted, with the right person. But her heart fluttered nervously as well, because she wanted to be certain that Draco was that right person. And nothing good had ever come from rushing into things. That was one thing she’d learned from her relationship with Ron.

 

“We are partners. Equals.” Draco stated confidently.

 

If there was any moment in which Hermione was jealous of Draco’s casual confidence, it was right now. They were waiting at the Ministry for their Portkey straight to the wizarding hotel in Kanazawa. Not only did Hermione have no idea what to expect from a conference of the Potions Guild, she was also aware of the fact that most attendees would probably be male and Pureblood. At least that was what Snape had told them. As she did not want to embarrass herself or Draco for that matter, she had been rereading the etiquette books until the early hours in the morning. She was sure that had she been spending the night at Draco’s, he would not have let her. But she had opted to stay at her own apartment, to pack and have dinner with Harry before taking off.

 

But Draco was right. There was no use in brushing up all those little rules on how to behave. In the end, it would be the potioneers who needed Kaizen and their catalogue, not the other way around.

 

From the corner of her eye, Hermione saw Draco’s hand twitch. No doubt he was itching to grasp her hand. Over the past few weeks, as she had gotten to know his little habits and likes better, she had noticed that Draco liked physical contact, however small. He would always unconsciously let his leg brush against hers, weave his fingers through hers as they walked around in private quarters, touch her shoulder, lower back or arm as he passed by… And at night, even when asleep, he would wrap an arm around her waist or snuggle up against her back, as if he was afraid that if he would let go for only a second, she would disappear. Hermione found it quite adorable.

 

But in public, and especially here in the heart of the Ministry they did not want reveal their relationship yet. Even the two of them arriving at the Floo grates together for their business trip had caused heads to turn and camera’s to flash. No doubt their picture would make it into the Prophet tomorrow. Hermione was glad she would not be in the country for that. Both she and Draco had just ignored the stares and whispers and quickly marched on to the Portkey offices.  

 

Now they were waiting to be redirected to a separate room to catch their international Portkey to Japan. The witch responsible for this morning’s shift was unabashedly glancing in their direction. She could not be much older than Hermione and had probably attended Hogwarts together with them for a few years. Hermione sighed impatiently and frowned at the witch, who quickly lowered her eyes back to the papers on her desk again.

 

“That’s us.” she sighed in relief as she saw the word “Kaizen” appear on the plate above one of the many doors.

Without further ado they both walked into the room. A delicate old teacup was the only thing visible in the room. Draco picked it up and upon his touch, a smooth female voice sounded in the room.

 

_“Twenty seconds until activation.”_

 

Hermione stepped forward as Draco stretched out his hand towards her. She ignored the hand and curled herself into his embrace instead. With no one but them in the room, it felt safe enough for such little display of affection. Draco hummed contentedly and lightly kissed her forehead.

 

“You have everything?” he inquired, even though he should know Hermione never came unprepared.

 

Hermione wiggled her purse, which held everything she needed, with a little help from her infamous undetectable Extension Charm.

 

_“Ten seconds until activation.”_

 

“Clever witch.” Draco smiled down at her and Hermione couldn’t help but preen a little bit. Even Draco’s expensive trunk – custom made of course and now shrunk down and stored in one of his pockets – couldn’t hold as much as her little purse.

 

_“Five – four – three – two – one.”_

 

“Here we go.” Hermione whispered before the teacup glowed and she became aware of the loathed feeling of that pull in her lower belly.

 

She closed her eyes as the world whirled around her.

She felt ground under her feet again but a moment later, and Draco’s steady arms kept her upright.

 

“Are you feeling alright?”

 

Hermione opened her eyes again, staring straight into Draco’s concerned ones.

 

“Yes, just a bit disoriented.” she smiled back weakly. Travelling by Portkey never really was pleasant, but at least she was not feeling as nauseous as she had the first few times.

 

“Let’s go upstairs to our room and have a cup of tea.” Draco said while running his hands along her arms. “I’ve heard they quite know how to brew one here in Japan.”

 

Hermione smiled up at him more genuinely now and let him take her hand and pull her along.

 

Once they stepped out of the Portkey room and into the reception area of the hotel, Hermione really got the chance to take in the environment.

 

It all oozed luxury. From the spotless marble floor, the golden Floo grates with personal waiters holding the Floo powder to the enchanted ceiling and backwall, depicting a Japanse cherry tree wood with constantly falling blossoms that disappeared before they touched her head and leaving a lovely fragrance in the air. Hermione had never seen anything like it.

 

Trying not to show her astonishment too much, Hermione tore her eyes away from a passing Japanese couple in splendid silk robes and walked over to the reception area with Draco.

 

“Reservation under Malfoy.” Draco stated nonchalantly.

 

“Not Kaizen?” Hermione frowned.

 

Draco sent her an apologetic but smug smirk.

“Contrary to the situation in Great Britain, the name still opens many doors in the other wizarding societies. And got us the penthouse here. Just let me spoil you this once.”

 

Ignoring the mention of the penthouse, Hermione couldn’t hold back her curiosity.

“Why remain in Great Britain then?”

 

Draco turned towards her, his face guarded. Hermione had come to recognise this particular neutral expression as the one Draco wore whenever he was practicing Occlumency. Why he thought he needed it around her, she did not comprehend. She wanted nothing more for him to be open and honest with her. Maybe it was an ingrained habit, one he would hopefully unlearn as he spent more time with her.

Hermione’s thoughts were interrupted by a wizard from the hotel beckoning them towards the lifts. Draco did not hesitate, took her hand in his and followed the man.

 

He let her enter the lift first, never taking his hand off her lower back. The ride up was silent, as the wizard from the hotel was giving an explanation about the many services the hotel was offering. Why on earth someone would want a “thorough cleansing of the wand” was beyond Hermione. But she wasn’t paying much attention to that. Surely Draco knew his way around five star hotels and would answer her questions if she needed something. She bet that anything she wanted, the hotel would provide for anyway.

 

As the doors opened, Hermione had to bite back a gasp.

The penthouse, their room for the coming days, was gorgeous.

It was sleek and modern, with glass walls letting in all the light and offering them an incomparable view of the Kanazawa castle and surrounding park.

 

Hermione stepped forward until her nose was almost pressed against the window. The view left her breathless. She barely registered Draco thanking the hotel staff and asking them about dinner options.

She then heard his footsteps drawing closer, until he was standing right behind her and was wrapping his arms around her waist. One tug and her body pulled flush against his.

 

Hermione leaned back into his embrace, which earned her a content hum.

She knew she should enjoy the peaceful moment between them, but just couldn’t resist.

 

“Why did you stay then?” she repeated her earlier question. “Why did you not leave Britain for a better place after finishing at Hogwarts?”

 

Draco exhaled slowly into her hair and buried his nose in the crook of her neck.

“Because Britain is where you are.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter sneak peak:
> 
> _“Well, that was nice.” she commented nonchalantely._
> 
> _“Nice?” Draco cocked an incredulous eyebrow at her. “Just nice?”_
> 
> _“Mm-mm.” Hermione confirmed, brushing invisible lint from his robes. “Didn’t make me scream after all.”_


	21. Chapter 21

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> And so the conference begins. Hermione's playful streak is showing, but how long can she keep that up without a little revenge from Draco?

The conference room was gigantic. It reminded Hermione of the Great Hall at Hogwarts during the opening banquet. There was a resemblance of order, but everyone was talking to everyone, which made it almost impossible to get a clear overview of everything that was happening.

 

It was the first morning of the Potions Guild Conference and the witch at the entrance had just explained to them what to expect of the day. Mostly lectures and debates, and a chance to mingle and catch up with other potioneers. Hermione didn’t recognise a single face in the hall, but then again, she wasn’t a member of the Guild and her only interactions with a Potion Master were with the Professors Snape and Slughorn.

 

Nonetheless, her face was alight with excitement.

 

“Enjoying yourself?” Draco teased from beside her. He had offered her his arm, like any well-educated gentleman would do, which Hermione had taken, although reluctantly. She wanted to be free to roam around. But at the same time, it was nice to stay close to the only familiar face in the crowd.

 

“You have no idea.” Hermione smiled back. “Or wait, based on last night, you probably do.” She winked at Draco, whose ears tinted pink at the mention of the night before. It had been quite… _intense._ Staying at a penthouse with a private pool on the terrace did have its advantages after all. Draco just had not seen it coming until Hermione had pulled him in, fully clothed, and made herself comfortable in his lap.

 

“If you want to attend any lectures today, I suggest you keep those comments to yourself before you find yourself locked up in our hotel room for the remainder of the day.” Draco warned, his eyes sparking.

 

“Oh really?” Hermione whispered, feeling she was gaining the upper hand this time. It made her bold. “And here I was, thinking that if you just let me have my way in here first, I can have my way with you later.” She licked her lips, pleased to see that Draco had to swallow before he found his voice again. She did not give him the chance to say something but leaned in and bit his earlobe.

 

“I want to _taste_ you Draco, and I might not even want to wait until after the soiree we are attending tonight.”

 

And with that, she left him rooted in his spot while she turned to the first exhibition stand and examined the newest type of cauldron with more attention than she normally would have. After a few seconds, she felt Draco’s presence by her side again.

 

“Minx.” he hissed. “I will make you pay for that.”

 

“Better give that tongue some rest then.” Hermione quipped back right at him.

 

“ _Hermione.”_ came his warning, but she knew he would not dare to act in the middle of a Potions Conference.

 

“Looks like the first lecture by Master de Zarate is about to start. Let’s go find some good seats, you look a bit uncomfortable.” Hermione bit her lip as she quickly glanced down at the concealed, but no doubt present bulge in Draco’s trousers.

 

Oh how she enjoyed holding the reigns from time to time. No doubt he would make her pay for this later, in the privacy of their hotel room. But if she was being honest with herself; Hermione was looking forward to that. She loved giving up control to Draco in the bedroom. She always was the responsible one, the one with solutions and answers. People expected her to do the right thing, to not be selfish. And she had been that Hermione for the past years – more out of necessity to survive than anything else. But she longed to be carefree, to do wild things and to be challenged. That was probably partly what drew her to Draco. He was someone who could keep her on her toes and loved her wild side as much as her rational one. Someone who didn’t shy back to stoke that fire inside her a little bit more.

 

As the day progressed, Draco became more pensive. In all the time Hermione had known him, he had never looked more like an actual snake: lying in wait, ready to strike at the exact right moment. The anticipation had Hermione all hot and bothered. If Draco noticed her rubbing her thighs together to create at least a bit of friction, he never showed.

 

So when the final debate of the afternoon had come to an end and attendees were pouring out of the conference hall, Hermione was preparing herself mentally for the moment their hotel room door would click shut behind them. Her overactive brain had gone over all the possible scenario’s, all the delicious things Draco could do to her once they had retreated.

 

Which was why she was taken completely by surprise when Draco suddenly grabbed her by the arm and pulled her aside, behind a ceiling-to-floor curtain hanging beside the Floo area.

 

“Draco! Wha-” Hermione started, but she was silenced by one of his fingers on her lips.

 

When Draco was sure she would hold her tongue, he started tracing her lower lip with his index finger, lightly tugging it down before putting his finger in her mouth.

 

“Suck.” he breathed next to her ear and Hermione did not hesitate to obey. This was her punishment, right here and now, and damn, she would take it and not give him an inch.

 

“Good girl.” he praised her. He added a second finger to her mouth and Hermione could not resist curling her tongue around it before sucking them all the way in her mouth.

 

“Fuck.” Draco hissed at the sensation that triggered the memory of last night of her lips curled around his cock.

 

Hermione was reveling in the heady feeling of turning on Draco Malfoy too much to realise that his other hand was keeping itself occupied as well. With one rough pull, he shoved her skirt up and out of the way. Then, with a non-verbal spell he effortlessly cut through the fabric of her damp knickers with his wand.

 

As Hermione was still registering that she was standing behind a curtain in a conference hall full of wizards and witches who could _hear_ her, or worse, stumble upon them at any moment, Draco stuffed her knickers in his pocket and pulled his wet fingers from her mouth.

 

“Draco, there are people right here on the other side!” Hermione hissed.

 

“Then you better be very, _very_ quiet darling.” Draco smirked and without further warning, found her sex and thrust his two wet fingers in her dripping heat.

 

Hermione literally had to bite her tongue to keep herself from moaning out loud. Her hands desperately sought purchase and clawed at Draco’s robes.

 

Then Draco dropped to his knees and buried his face between her legs. Instinctively Hermione widened her stance at the feeling of his tongue licking its way up her slit. In the meanwhile, his other fingers were pumping lazily in and out of her in a steady rhythm. Hermione had to brace herself against the wall for support.

 

Fuck! What he was doing to her! His tongue was alternating between playful little flicks against her bundle of nerves and broad, wet strokes. It had her head spinning in no time. The pressure his other fingers were providing only drove Hermione towards the edge that much faster.

 

“Draco!” Hermione gasped and she could feel the man smirking against her.

She barely managed the swallow her ‘o’ into a soundless gasp as her climax washed over her. She only was able to keep herself upright because of his vice-like grip on her hips. As she came down from her high as Draco got up again.

 

It took Hermione a few moments to realise that yes, they were still at the conference and yes, Draco was looking down at her again with a victorious grin on his face. At least he was gentleman enough to help her find her balance again and pull down her skirt, smoothing out the wrinkles while caressing her arse. Her knickers… well, she had not hope of ever getting them back. Not that she minded if this was what she got instead.

 

Ignoring the fact that she probably looked all flushed and well-fucked, Hermione flipped her hair over her shoulder, straightened her back and looked Draco straight in the eye. He just looked a little too smug.

 

“Well, that was nice.” she commented nonchalantly.

 

“Nice?” Draco cocked an incredulous eyebrow at her. “Just _nice_?”

 

“Mm-mm.” Hermione confirmed, brushing invisible lint from his robes. “Didn’t make me scream after all.”

 

She knew she was challenging him. She didn’t know what his reaction would be, but she was certain that he _would_ get revenge for that little comment. Revenge that _would_ make her scream. The molten iron in his heated stare promised her that for certain. But while she knew she was walking straight into his trap, she’d never felt so free.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Short chapter, but the next one will be up soon (and it'll be a good one, promise!)
> 
> Next chapter sneak peak:
> 
> _Draco got up, putting his glass next to hers on the table. He then turned towards her and gently held her by her shoulders._
> 
> _“And we will prove them wrong. Things will change. Not everywhere, and not as fast as you’d like, but we can make a start. Not all Purebloods are like this. I know you’re upset, but-“_
> 
> _“Upset?” Hermione spat. “I’m not upset. I’m LIVID! I deserve more respect than this! I do not deserve to feel like I’m worth nothing, like I don’t belong!”_
> 
> _“You do belong. You do.” Draco stated, cupping her face in his hands, forcing her to meet his earnest eyes._


	22. Chapter 22

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In the heat of an argument, people often say things they don't mean to say.  
> Hermione and Draco find out the hard way!

It turned out that Hermione had been right about Draco not being done with her. Once they’d made it back to the hotel room, Draco had pushed her over the side of the couch and fucked her mercilessly. It had been passionate, rough and fast, but she had loved every second of it.

 

Which left them with only an hour to shower and get cleaned up for the Potions Guild soiree. While Draco had opted for his trademark black bespoke dress robes, Hermione had purchased a formal, floor length black dress. The deep v-neck and split at the side got her an approving wink from Draco.

 

“Beautiful.” he complimented, as he pressed a kiss to her cheek, careful not to ruin her make-up or chignon.

 

“You look very handsome yourself.” Hermione smiled back.

 

Upon arriving back in the conference hall, now completely transformed to host the night’s event, Hermione noticed that it was not as crowded as it had been during the day. Which meant this soiree was a bit more exclusive. She wondered briefly how Draco had gotten them both invited.

 

Wizards and witches were standing and sitting in small groups, chatting and even exchanging small vials here and there. It was clear to Hermione that this was where the deals were truly concluded.

 

“Champagne?” Draco asked her and Hermione nodded, hoping that no one would put anything in their drinks at a Potions conference. She badly wanted to cast a detection charm, but didn’t dare to in the middle of the room.

 

Draco clinked his glass against hers before taking a sip. After she’d done the same, he offered her his free arm and they started making their round.

 

It didn’t take long for someone to recognise them though.

 

“Ah, you must be our young innovator from Great Britain!” a wizard greeted. He looked tanned and in his fifties, but looks could be deceiving in the wizarding world. He flashed his perfect row of pearl white teeth as he shook Draco’s hand. “Lord Malfoy! Wonderful to meet you.”

 

Draco nodded and released Hermione’s arm to accept the handshake.

“Pleasure is all mine, mister…?”

 

“Turner. Claudius Turner.”

 

Hermione’s eyes widened. She’d done a little bit of research before coming to Japan, knowing there could be opportunities to strike business deals or at least broaden Kaizen’s network. She knew Claudius Turner was the head of the “Daily Draughts” imperium – a chain of apothecaries in the United States with mainly everyday household potions on the shelves. His business had an annual 10 digit turnover.

 

“Ah, of course.” Draco smiled politely, but Hermione could tell he looked extremely pleased with the attention of mister Turner. “And I urge you to drop the title – we are amongst peers, are we not?”

 

Turner inclined his head, then turned towards Hermione. He reached for her hand, pulled it closer and kissed the air above her knuckles.

 

“And this lovely lady may be…?”

 

“Hermione Granger, business partner of Mister Malfoy.” she answered and noticed Draco’s proud grin from the corner of her eye.

 

Turner seemed taken aback by that, clearly not expecting her to be little more than arm candy or Draco’s wife. Then, to Hermione’s surprise, he turned back to Draco, as if she did not matter at all. The wizard clearly assumed that business was to be done with Draco alone.

 

“I heard interesting things about your production methods.”

 

Draco nodded and coolly sipped his champagne. “I can assure you they are interesting indeed.”

 

“I also heard you are quite the whisky connoisseur.” That flashing smile again. “Perhaps I can invite you to sample my collection? Who knows? I might have something that could just be to your taste.”

 

Draco cocked his head to the side, as if he was contemplating the offer.

“We will make sure to fit it into our busy schedule.” he replied, almost nonchalantly. Hermione recognised the mask Draco was wearing. Occlumency, again.

 

With a nod, Turner made to leave, but hesitated.

“And bring your lovely partner.” he added. “My wife would love to host a small dinner party.”

Without further ado, he’d turned around, spotted someone in the crowd and was gone.

 

Hermione raised her eyebrows at Draco.

“That was rude.” she huffed.

 

“That was a typical American Pureblood: jovial, welcoming, but expecting other Purebloods to follow the same rules he does. A lady who is beautiful _and_ who is working is just not something he expects. Or wants to deal with.” Draco explained, then he grinned smugly. “But we have the invitation, and soon probably a deal with him. He’s big Hermione – he’s the one we want.”

 

Hermione nodded. It could be considered a success to get a personal invitation from the biggest potions producer and seller in the US. But she wished that he would have least recognised her as an equal business partner instead of talking to Draco alone.

Hermione shook her head and took another sip of champagne. What mattered was the result. After they had reached an agreement, she would not have to deal with Turner again.

 

“To our first victory.” she smiled, toasting. Draco briefly kissed her on the lips before taking her hand again.

 

“Let’s see if we can find other interested parties here.”

 

Hermione nodded.

 

The second time they were stopped, it was by a group of older Chinese wizards who were accompanied by their wives – or at least Hermione assumed they were their wives. Who really knew with these Purebloods and their arranged marriages? While the men drew Draco aside to discuss what Kaizen could mean to their business, the women addressed Hermione. While she tried to be polite and answer their questions – not really potions related – she also tried to keep track of the men’s conversation. Draco caught her looking at him and paused.

 

“Gentlemen, may I introduce my business partner and the brain behind our successful brewing methodology: Hermione Granger.” he said, extending his arm to include Hermione in their circle, away from the wives. Hermione shot him a grateful smile as she politely nodded at the Chinese men. While two of them remained a bit reserved and regarded her with neutral expressions, the third one openly sneered at her. It reminded her very much of the way Lucius Malfoy had once looked down on her.

 

Even though it gave Hermione an uncomfortable feeling, Draco’s hand on her lower back was warm and provided her with steadiness. She had faced men worse than these, she could do this.

 

“A pleasure to meet you.” Hermione answered, looking them straight in the eye.

 

The sneering wizard lifted his chin proudly.

“We’ve heard of you, Miss Granger, or rather, _haven’t_ heard of your bloodline in our circles.”

He turned back to Draco. “I think we might need to confer with our other partners before continuing any discussions on this business opportunity.”

 

Hermione did her very best not to scowl. She knew he was refusing to talk business in front of her, a woman and a Muggleborn at that. Draco must have felt her stiffen, because his thumb was drawing soothing circles on her back as he said his goodbyes to the Chinese men.

 

“Godric, if it wasn’t for the fact that we might make a _lot_ of money through their businesses, I wouldn’t mind to show them a Muggleborn’s hexes.” Hermione seethed. “Fucking prejudiced toads.”

 

“Just ignore them.” Draco calmed her down. “They are nothing but old Pureblood wizards, very much set in their old-fashioned ways. They’re a dying species and we both know it. And yes, if we manage to come to an agreement with them, we will make sure to empty their vaults just a little bit more than we would have with other partners.”

 

Hermione sighed at Draco’s words. She knew that being a Muggleborn made her stand out, but with the drastically changed climate in Great Britain after the war and her particular social circle of friends, she’d become used to the tolerance. Apparently things had remained very much the same abroad.

 

Unfortunately, the evening continued in the same fashion. Wizards and witches would speak to Draco about possible collaborations, and if she wasn’t just ignored, Hermione got rude comments or thinly veiled insults.

After a particular ill-mannered wizard had had the audacity to outright call her a Mudblood, Hermione had had enough.

 

Draco, feeling the tension, quickly wrapped up and guided them both the fireplace to Floo back to the hotel before Hermione drew her wand on the man.

 

Once inside their room, Draco strode straight to the bar and poured both of them a double glass of whisky. Hermione accepted it without a word and knocked it back in one go.

 

“Easy.” Draco said, nipping from his own glass while he leaned back on the couch.

 

Hermione looked up, feeling like she was about to explode. And while she knew it was not fair to take anything out on Draco, he was the only person around.

 

“In all these years that I have spent in the wizarding world, not once have I felt as small as I did tonight!” she started. “I have been called many things, many times, but _this.”_

Draco winced and shifted uncomfortably - he himself had called her Mudblood on several occasions in the past. Maybe it had been her own ignorance about the whole concept, maybe it had been the fact that they’d all been kids, but she’d come to the point where she had forgiven him. But for grown up wizards and witches to call her that name in a professional environment…

 

Hermione put her glass down on the coffee table with a bit too much force, causing the glass to crack. But she barely noticed as she started to pace.

 

“Who the hell do they think they are?! While _my_ efforts will make _their_ businesses more lucrative and _their_ lives more easy, they still have the audacity to spit on me! How DARE they!”

 

Draco sighed and Hermione whipped her head around, eyes spitting fire. But he did not interrupt her and let her scream. And she knew she badly needed that. In this moment, she didn’t want to be the logical, empathic and forgiving one.

 

“I have achieved things they cannot even wrap their heads around, with the help of the very Muggle technologies they so despise and they plainly refuse to speak to me? Call me a Mudblood? Think they are so much better in their ancient Pureblood ways! I’ll show them what _this_ Mudblood can do!”

 

Draco winced again and pinched the bridge of his nose with two fingers. “Could you please not call yourself that awful name?”

 

“I’ve been called a Mudblood ever since I set foot here in the wizarding world, which now is _my_ world too. I’ve been called a Mudblood not even twenty minutes ago, by these stuck-up wizards who think they’re so much better than everyone else because they married their own cousin! They don’t want me here, even though they’re limiting themselves to their own archaic ways!”

 

Draco got up, putting his glass next to hers on the table. He then turned towards her and gently held her by her shoulders.

 

“And we will prove them wrong. Things _will_ change. Not everywhere, and not as fast as you’d like, but we can make a start. Not all Purebloods are like this. I know you’re upset, but-“

 

“Upset?” Hermione spat. “I’m not upset. I’m LIVID! I deserve more respect than this! I do not deserve to feel like I’m worth nothing, like I don’t belong!”

 

“You _do_ belong. You do.” Draco stated, cupping her face in his hands, forcing her to meet his earnest eyes.

 

Hermione scowled, anger overtaking all logical sense. She took a step back, away from Draco’s touch.

“Those Purebloods will always make sure I’m reminded of the fact that I’m unwanted, no matter what I do or say. No matter how much of a brilliant witch I am.”

 

Draco sighed. “You are wanted.”

 

“Excuse me that at this very moment, I’m not really feeling that way!” Hermione spat back.

 

“Damn you witch! Does that matter in the end?” Draco raised his voice, becoming frustrated and finally losing his patience. “I WANT YOU!”

 

Hermione blinked, and really looked at him. Draco was standing in the middle of the living room, momentarily speechless by the admission he’d just roared back at her. She suddenly felt guilty. Here she was, complaining – rightfully so in her opinion – about her struggle with her heritage to Draco. Draco, who had been an outcast in their society since the war, who struggled to give the Malfoy name a new and better meaning without completely losing its value in Pureblood society. Draco Malfoy, who ever since the war had not been accepted as reformed by the winning side, but had not been welcomed back in his very own Pureblood circles either.

 

At her continued silence, his shoulders slumped and he fell back on the couch, arms resting on his knees, head hanging.

 

“I want you. Can that not be enough for you?” Draco repeated, so silently he almost sounded defeated.

 

“Draco.” Hermione whispered before she sunk down on her knees in front of him.

 

She cupped his cheek with one hand, forcing him to look her in the eye while the other hand brushed his blonde fringe aside.

 

“It is everything to me. _Everything._ ” she admitted. “And I’m sorry. I’m sorry.” Hermione whispered, hoping she succeeded in conveying her message. That she wasn’t mad at him. That he’d done everything he possibly could to make her happy and feel wanted. And that he was succeeding.

 

“You don’t need to apologise.” Draco muttered, still refusing to look at her. He kept his eyes firmly on the ground.

 

“Yes, I do.” Hermione replied stubbornly. Draco just shook his head, and Hermione felt her lungs constrict at the thought that he might not believe her. That he did not realise that he indeed _was_ everything to her, and had been for a while, until she actually said it out loud. So she gathered all the courage she possessed and forced Draco to look into her eyes, begging him to believe her.

 

“You are everything to me. And I do want you to. More than you could know.” She took a fortifying breath, not wanting to waver when she opened her heart for him.

“Because I’m falling in love with you, Draco.”

 

For a few heartbeats, there was silence as his silver eyes bore into her warm brown ones. Almost as if he was searching them for the tiniest sliver of doubt. Hermione knew he’d find none.

 

Then, in a rush of hands and limbs, Draco fell to his knees as well, clutched Hermione to his chest and crashed his lips against hers. The kiss was fierce and passionate and made Hermione’s toes curl. For no other reason than the fact that it confirmed what she wanted to hear most: _I love you too._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter sneak peak:
> 
> _“Hermione?” he asked._
> 
> _“Mm-mm.” came the affirmative response. She clearly was not fully awake yet. And maybe that could be a good thing, for she would most definitely overthink everything._
> 
> _“Tomorrow, after the conference ends, I’d like to go to Australia.”_


	23. Chapter 23

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Draco has a bold plan - but will Hermione appreciate his efforts?

Something tickled his nose. It was soft enough to think of it as pleasant – because it smelled good too -, but insistent enough pull him out of his slumber. So Draco tried his hardest to fight it and keep his eyes closed for another few minutes. To no avail, because the source of the tickling thing started moving underneath his arm as well. As another wave of the lovely fragrance reached his nose, his brain made the connection between the stirring person next to him and the peaceful feeling he was experiencing: Hermione.

 

With a ghost of a smile on his lips, he slowly opened his eyes. He was greeted by the sight of an unruly mass of curls and the feeling of a warm backside pressed against his front. He had his free arm draped over her waist, effectively locking her in place.

 

As he gently drew a waking Hermione a bit closer into his embrace, his mind revisited the previous night. He remembered the fight, the two of them yelling at each other. But most of all, he remembered her confession. She was falling in love with him. Something he’d never dared to hope for had just been freely given to him. He felt his pulse quickening at the mere thought of owning Hermione’s heart.

 

He had not explicitly said back the words, but he trusted that Hermione would have clearly understood that he felt the same way. Had been feeling the same way for quite a while. But now was not the moment to go into that little detail.

 

This made his next plan so much easier. Maybe now was the right time for it, while they were still on a high from the confessions and still a bit drowsy from sleep.

 

“Hermione?” he asked.

 

“Mm-mm.” came the affirmative response. She clearly was not fully awake yet. And maybe that could be a good thing, for she would most definitely overthink everything when that brain of hers was dissecting his every word.

 

“Tomorrow, after the conference ends, I’d like to go to Australia.”

 

“Alright.” Hermione mumbled, clearly not fully realizing what she was agreeing to.

 

“I’d like to go to Melbourne.” Draco continued, knowing that that would activate her brain.

And indeed, he felt Hermione stiffen ever so slightly at the mention of the city. It took her a few seconds to respond.

 

“Draco… I don’t know…” she started, wiggling so she could turn around to face him. He let her, since it would be much easier for him to read her facial expressions and reactions like this. And gave him an opportunity to kiss her senseless. He wasn’t about to pass that one up.

 

“Just listen to me. I know this is eating you alive – the guilt, the fact that you probably always hoped to talk things through with them after reversing the Obliviation charm, … . I’ve been there, I know how it can slowly gnaw at your conscience until it becomes too heavy a burden to carry. And I see it in your eyes, every time someone mentions your parents, or family events. I see how you latch onto my mother…” Draco softly explained. He noticed Hermione’s eyes had glazed over with unshed tears and that she was trying her damnest hard to fight them.

 

Draco pulled her further into the warmth of his embrace and buried her face in his neck. He could feel the hot tears dripping onto his collar bone, but only held Hermione tighter. Even though he could barely stand to see her like this, he also knew what a valuable thing it was for Hermione to trust him enough to let go of her normally so controlled façade.

 

“We can go there, you and I together, and you can see them. See that they are doing fine and realise that they would not have had that life, any life at all, without your decision.” Draco soothed her.

 

He waited until he felt her calm down again. Hermione finally looked up again and faced him.

“Ok.” she said, sounding very small and not completely convinced.

 

Draco kissed her temple softly.

“Together, you and I.” he repeated. And prayed that they were doing the right thing.

 

*

 

“Stop fidgeting.” Draco warned under his breath. “I’m the one who is supposed to be the nervous one. I’m the one who is going to let them loose on my perfect set of teeth.”

 

Hermione stilled at that comment and instead took Draco’s hand and wove her fingers through his.

 

They were standing outside “Wilkins Dental Practice”, Draco in a suit – which was where he drew the line when it came to Muggle apparel – and Hermione in a lovely summer dress. Which could just end up on the floor of their suite later that night. _Focus Draco, focus._

 

His plan had been quite simple: they would pretend to be Muggles and make an appointment at Hermione’s parents’ practice. Hermione had opted to wear a Glamour; she was wearing glasses and had blonde hair, long and straight and tied back into a smooth ponytail. Even though Draco thought she looked pretty anyway, he did kind of miss her trademark unruly hair. But Hermione had been afraid that seeing her parents seeing her undisguised self could trigger something in their minds that should not be triggered. Hence the Glamour. As her parents had never met him before, Draco could just go as himself.

 

“Ready?” he asked, gently squeezing her hand. Hermione nodded, not averting her gaze from the door they would be entering through in mere seconds.

 

Draco understood how hard this was for her. It was one thing to know what you had done while your parents were half a world away, hopefully happy with their new lives. But to actually go visit them, knowing that things would never get back to the way they were… it had to be heartbreaking. However, Draco was convinced that actually witnessing that her parents were doing well would do Hermione a world of good. He knew she still felt guilty about what she’d done to them, that she hadn’t had the courage to go see them before. The fact that she’d so easily agreed to stop by in Melbourne was indication enough that she understood that she needed this to find closure.

 

Draco pushed open the door and pulled Hermione along with him. They entered a brightly lit reception area. Everything looked modern and clean. A friendly lady behind the desk greeted them and confirmed their appointment. Hermione had been surprised that they had been able to find a timeslot at such short notice. Even though Draco never mentioned it, he knew that Hermione had her suspicions that Draco had booked this in advance, even before asking her. And he liked that she did not ask how he’d gotten the appointment so quickly, or why the Portkeys had been ready to go and the hotel suite booked and awaiting their arrival. She was smart enough to know that Draco planned for everything, and that in this instance, he’d done it for her.

 

So she let him take the lead as he repeated the story they’d practiced. They were a British couple on holiday and he wanted to have his teeth checked after a dull ache in his mouth had been bothering him for a few days. He would have his teeth checked – which were perfect, thank you very much - , the dentists would find nothing and they’d play the reassured tourists who could enjoy the rest of their trip abroad.

 

But as they sat in the waiting room, Draco began to feel a little bit nervous. He didn’t like the idea of these Muggle healers probing around in his mouth with their tools. Even though Hermione had reassured him that it would be a painless affair, Draco felt less comfortable in the Muggle environment. It was one thing to walk the Muggle streets in London and dine at a Muggle restaurant, but visiting a dentist was another thing entirely.  

 

“Mister Malfingham? They are ready for you.” the receptionist announced, gesturing towards one of the doors.

 

Draco got up and made sure Hermione was walking in front of him, so he could place a comforting hand on her lower back.

 

They entered the treatment room and Draco had a hard time keeping himself from gulping as he took in the instruments placed around the chair. Hermione must have felt him pause and shot him a worried glance. He shook his head almost imperceptibly. Now was the time to gather all the courage he had and just do this. For her.

 

“Good morning, Mister…” Wendell Wilkins began, consulting his computer. “Malfingham.” He stepped forward and held out his hand in greeting.

 

Draco saw Hermione freeze for a moment, so he passed her and shook her father’s hand. Draco briefly wondered whether the man would have greeted him in the same polite manner had he known who Draco really was. His daughter’s childhood tormentor and bully. The one who watched her bleed onto his carpet, just because she happened to be born with magic in her veins.

 

“Good morning sir.” Draco nodded.

 

“Fellow Brits! Not from around here, I gather?” Wilkins smiled.

 

“No, we’re on holiday, traveling around a bit.” Draco answered.

 

“You may take a seat here or wait outside if you prefer that Mrs. Malfingham.” Wilkins continued, addressing Hermione, assuming she was Draco’s wife. Hermione nodded and swiftly sat down, her eyes not leaving her father’s form for even a split second.

 

“If I understand correctly, something is troubling you and you wish to have me take a look at it?” Wilkins continued, gesturing at Draco to take a seat. Draco reluctantly lowered himself in the chair, leaning back uncomfortably.

 

“It’s probably his wisdom teeth on the left side – he’s had issues with those before.” Came a clear voice from the side. Hermione had found her confidence again. It seemed that that was enough information for her father to start the examination. Draco exhaled in relief.

 

Wilkins did something with his hand – Draco could not see what – and suddenly Draco’s chair started moving upwards. He gripped the arms until his knuckles were white and had to force himself to remain seated. Fortunately, the movement stopped after a few seconds. Hermione had not mentioned this in her explanation on how a routine check-up usually went! Draco shot Hermione a scathing glare and she shrugged apologetically.

 

“Open your mouth please.” Wilkins instructed and Draco complied. The sooner this was over, the better.

 

“Have you been enjoying your trip so far?” Wilkins asked casually, trying to make small talk with Hermione while he inspected Draco’s teeth. Wilkins was leaning in close, his face hovering over Draco’s and Draco couldn’t help but think that there were better first introductions to the father-in-law. At least, for all intents and purposes Wilkins might one day be exactly that, if Draco had his way. And he usually did.

 

“Yes, very much so far. Everyone is so friendly.” Hermione replied and Draco had to give it to her that she sounded genuine in her enthousiasm. Which couldn’t be easy for her, given that she was talking to her own bloody father, who treated her like a stranger.

 

“Exactly what we felt when we moved here last year.” Wilkins replied.

 

“Oh, you left the UK to settle here?” Hermione asked innocently. Draco had to refrain from rolling his eyes at her lack of subtlety.

 

“Yes, it had always been a dream of ours to move to Australia after our honeymoon here. Don’t know why we never took the leap sooner. And since it was just the two of us and we both owned our own practice back in the UK, it was only a matter of paperwork. Mister Malfingham, your teeth seem perfectly in order to me – you take care of them excellently.” Wilkins stated and disappeared out of Draco’s line of sight. Without warning, the chair began moving downwards again and Draco swallowed a curse. The least they could do was fucking warn him!

 

“Were there any other questions?” Wilkins asked politely.

 

Draco got up from the chair, expecting Hermione to answer, but she was focused on something else. Draco followed her line of sight and discovered she was staring at a family photo on Wilkins’ desk, picturing him, his wife and their newly adopted daughter. Draco estimated she had to be around ten years old. In the picture, she was hugging both her new parents, but it were the broad smile and brown mass of curls that made Draco swallow. _Fuck._

 

“No, nothing. Thank you.” he managed to answer before he turned towards Hermione, who was still staring at the picture. Draco didn’t know whether the vacant look in her eyes was a result from the shock of being slapped in the face by her ‘replacement’, or from the Occlumency Hermione could and probably should be practicing. Shit, he had to take her out of here.

 

“Come on.” he said, taking her hand in his and tugging her towards the door. She reluctantly let him guide her out the door, past the reception – with a wandless and whispered ‘ _Confundus’_ Draco made it past the desk - and back out onto the street.

 

“They are happy.” Hermione stated, but her voice sounded dull and void of any emotion. “They are happy and are moving on.” It pained Draco to hear her talk like this, as if she needed to say it out loud to convince herself that it was true.

 

Hermione turned towards Draco, and he searched her face for any trace of grief. Strangely enough, he found none. He briefly wondered if she indeed was a practiced Occlumens as well.

 

“Hermione…” he started, but she interrupted him as if he hadn’t spoken at all.

 

“You know what the worst part is?” That same dullness to her otherwise melodic voice.

“That the tiniest part of me is actually glad. Relieved.”

 

Draco frowned. What was she talking about? There was a silence of a few heartbeats, before Hermione continued.

 

“Because somewhere deep down, one of the reasons to not reverse the spell is also the paralysing fear that they would remember everything, and not forgive me. I like to tell myself that they are happier this way. But maybe I’m also happier this way. By not giving them a chance to be mad at me, disown me or curse me. After all I’ve been through, this is one thing I would not be able to stand.”

 

Draco was speechless. He couldn’t fathom the idea of his parents truly abandoning him. Yes, his father would probably have turned his back on Draco if he had seen him now. But disinherit him like other Pureblood families had done before? Never. And his mother’s loyalty was as unwavering as ever. The thought of ever losing her trust and faith in him, made him sick to the stomach.

 

So Draco did the only thing he could think of: he wrapped her in his arms, trying to make her feel safe and wanted. To his immense relief, she let him.

 

“I want to go home, Draco.” Hermione whispered. “Take me home.”

 

Without question, Draco wrapped his arms around her and did.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter sneak peak:
> 
> _Theo took a step back, but remained close to Hermione. He gently cupped her face between his warm hands._
> 
> _“Hermione…” he whispered, and his warm breath fanning over her face felt too intimate. “This has to remain a secret. You cannot tell anyone about this, especially not _him_.”_
> 
> _Hermione nodded, understanding that this secret coming out would destroy Theo._
> 
> _“I promise.”_


	24. Chapter 24

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The date of the Christmas ball is coming closer, Hermione has a gift to choose and Theo has a confession to make.

It had been a taxing few weeks for Hermione. After the Conference and subsequent visit to Australia, Draco had convinced Hermione to spend another three days at the Malfoy’s very own Private Island in the Maledives. Even though she had not seen the point in going, she’d agreed for Draco’s sake. He’d been trying so hard for her, she could follow him there if that was what he really wanted.

 

Unexpectedly Hermione had quickly felt the peace and beauty of the place calm her inner self. The place was nothing short of perfection. The house was light and open, built with natural stones and wood. It had a gorgeous infinity pool, which almost made the whole building look like it was a natural part of the island. The homey building immediately stole Hermione’s heart. She’d assumed it was the magic of the place and their surroundings that had made her feel centered and find her inner strength again. That was until she witnessed the sunset at the private beach, leaning back into Draco’s embrace. It was just the two of them, the gentle sound of the waves lapping at the white shore and the setting sun bathing them in orange and purple colours. Right then and there, she had finally realised that this was all she ever needed to feel home: him. That no matter what the world threw at them, she would be able to face it if she could retreat back into the safety that was Draco Malfoy’s embrace.

 

And she had desperately needed him. After seeing her parents again after more than two years and seeing first hand that they quite literally had replaced her, she’d suffered a minor panic attack again. Both her and Draco had immediately recognised the signs and with the help of Draco’s soothing voice and calming caresses, she had been able to fight off the repressing feeling. It made Hermione realise that ever since she’d been together with Draco, she had not once suffered from an attack. It was almost an additional confirmation of how much she needed him.

 

After their three days had flown by, she had thanked Draco for understanding what she had needed even if she herself hadn’t. He’d given her a smile that made her weak in the knees and then thrown her a wink he knew she couldn’t resist. They’d had to delay their departure and repair his shirt…

 

Back in London, things had been going as well as Hermione could have hoped. Things were running smoothly in the shop. Theo was behaving most of the time. They’d made progress on the Wolfsbane recipe. Harry unexpectedly had an afternoon off and spent it with Hermione. And despite the fact that their attendance in Kanazawa had caused Hermione to have to face the fact that Purebloods still had a tight grip on the wizarding world and that beyond Great Britain, no much had really changed, it also had gained them a few valuable business contacts. Already they had agreements in place to lend their consultancy services and grant licenses to their unique production methods in more than ten countries. And for every product they helped produce, they receive a percentage of the selling price. Hermione had stopped looking at her Gringotts statements after the first overview of the profits had come in. It still made her head reel to see those numbers. Draco had merely smirked at her.

 

As Hermione juggled her work, private life and budding relationship with Draco, she had lost track of time. It was only when Narcissa had inquired after her dress for the Christmas ball that Hermione noticed she barely had two weeks left to find something. Narcissa’s raised eyebrow had betrayed the fact that Draco’s mother had suspected as much. Narcissa had subtly hinted at the fact that Draco would be wearing traditional black dress robes.

 

Without further ado, Hermione decided to in order to make her first public appearance as Draco’s partner – at an official Malfoy event at that! - some splurging was necessary. Even though she had never particularly dressed well when still at school, she’d discovered that she quite enjoyed finding the perfect outfit. If you thought about it, it was really a matter of matching parameters and elimination. Her skin tone and hair colour determined which colours she could pull off. Only certain cuts and styles would truly flatter her figure. Once that all had been determined – it was all logic in the end – she only needed to choose what she herself liked best. Leave it to her to turn something like clothing and style into something mathematic. But Hermione knew it had paid off in the past – she quite vividly remembered Draco’s eyes drinking in her figure in her long white gown at the opening night of Kaizen.

 

As money wasn’t an issue, she happily could spend thousands of pounds on that one perfect dress. Hermione found herself a gorgeous, regal midnight blue long-sleeved gown by Paolo Sebastian and fell in love with it straight away. While the deep colour and simple design make her look elegant and sophisticated, the plunging neckline down to her navel made her feel incredibly sexy.

She couldn’t wait for Draco to see her in it.

 

Now the only thing she still had in red on her to-do list was Draco’s Christmas present. While Hermione could definitely come up with an expensive gift, she wanted something more personal and unique than something she could purchase in a shop. She also did not want to end up giving something Draco already owned. Maybe she could create something, using her catalogue. She wasn’t as good at Potions as Draco was, but that didn’t mean she couldn’t tweak an existing recipe and turn it into something special.

 

 

*

 

“You are doing it again.”

 

“Hmmm….what?” Hermione blinked in confusion.

 

“Doing it again.” Theo repeated, coming to stand beside her and leaning against their work bench with an amused smirk on his face.

 

“Shut up.” Hermione grumbled, knowing she had been caught daydreaming again. The ball was only two days away now and she was putting the finishing touches on her Christmas present for Draco in the lab before closing up until after the New Year. Although she was reluctant to leave her work untouched for the next week, she also was looking forward to spending the time off with her loved ones. She was looking forward to spending it with Draco. And to see his face as she’d give him her present. She’d worked hard on it and had even briefly consulted Severus’ portrait. It still felt a little bit weird to not refer to him as Professor Snape.

 

“You might want to pay more attention when Draco twirls you around the ballroom floor – you would not want to step on his toes in front of all the esteemed Malfoy guests.” Theo teased. He knew how nervous Hermione was about that particular custom: she and Draco had to dance the opening waltz at the Malfoy Christmas ball. Even though Hermione was a decent dancer and could hold her own, she still would feel watched and scrutinized by all the attending guests. Mainly Pureblood guests. She knew she owned Draco’s heart and that there was nothing to be ashamed of, but still… She did not want to look like a fool either. There only was one first impression to make after all.

 

“Hey hey, I was only joking.” Theo quickly sobered up as he noticed Hermione’s nervous smile.

“You’ll be wonderful. And he’ll adore you. No matter what you do or wear. I’m certain he’ll that digusting doting-thing he seems to like to do when he’s around you.”

 

Hermione shot back a genuine smile this time.

“Aren’t you just jealous?” she teased.

 

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” Theo shot right back before bending over her tiny copper cauldron where her latest batch of her experiment was cooling down.

 

“What’s this?” he asked curiously.

 

“Are you sure you want to inhale those fumes?” Hermione said with a mischievous glint in her eyes.

 

Theo’s jaw tensed, him being suddenly uncomfortable as he did not know what effect the potion could have on him.

 

“What is it Theo?” Hermione purred. “Scared it might compel you to spill your deepest and darkest secrets to me?”

 

Theo threw her a lopesided grin as he inched a bit further away from her cauldron.

“Again, wouldn’t you like to know?”

 

“Actually, I would.” Hermione replied, crossing her arms in front of her and casually leaning against her work bench. It was rare for Theo to leave an opening for her to roast him. Hermione wasn’t about to waste that opportunity.

 

“A gentleman doesn’t kiss and tell Hermione.”

 

“Well, it’s a good thing then that you’re not a gentleman. And yes, stick out your tongue, very mature of you Lord Nott.”

 

“So, your potion?” Theo tried to change the subject away from him and back to her cauldron.

 

“A gift for Draco.”

 

“Now I certainly need to know what it is!” Theo exclaimed and took a step closer again.

“Is it something for in the bedroom, Miss Granger?” Theo waggled his eyebrows suggestively.

 

“You know what? I’ll tell you if you tell me one of your deepest and darkest secrets. Like who you like, Theodore Nott.” Hermione taunted. She would not let this opportunity slide. Theo knew far too much about her private life – and was too good at reading her and Draco -, it was about time she got some ammunition for teasing as well.

 

Theo closed his mouth into a thin line. The playfulness in his eyes dimmed a bit. Hermione frowned. Apparently she’d touched a sensitive topic with him. It still surprised her to discover a quiet and sensitive soul underneath the big mouth and playful barbs. Hermione wondered whether that was a typical Pureblood thing, to have that façade in place. Draco’s was the arrogant and demanding Lord Malfoy, heir to a vast fortune and used to be treated like royalty. Theo’s seemed to be the extravert teasing one, slithering out of anything using his sharp wit and infectious charm. But in moments like this, when she caught glimpses of his true nature, her heart went out to him. She remembered the confession he’d made, the way he had trusted her with that secret.

 

“I think I’ll just be patient and find out from Draco.” Theo shrugged casually, but Hermione wasn’t fooled by his attitude.

 

“Theo…” she softly said, her voice warm but devoid of any pity.

 

Theo sighed. “He doesn’t belong to me Hermione. Not everyone can have the Gryffindor-Slytherin fairytale.”

 

Hermione’s breath caught in her throat. A Gryffindor? But…

 

“Don’t ask me who.”

 

“I wasn’t…” Hermione started, but Theo’s knowing stare made her swallow the rest of her sentence. It almost certainly had to be someone from their year… Hermione’s mind was going over all the names, trying to think of which one could be tied to Theo. But she simply hadn’t paid him any attention during their school years. She had no idea. And yet… Hermione paused. A memory of Kaizen’s opening night. Theo’s flashing gaze the first time she’d seen him after the war. A heated stare that had not been directed at her. Theo approaching Hermione while she’d been talking to-

 

“Oh Theo.” Hermione whispered and crushed the unprepared young Lord Nott into a hug. Much to Hermione’s surprise, he immediately gave in and hugged her back. It made Hermione wonder how long he’d been walking around with his secret, all those feelings bottled up inside him with no way out.

 

Theo took a step back but remained close to Hermione. He gently cupped her face between his warm hands and caught her eyes with his.

 

“Hermione…” he whispered, and his warm breath fanning over her face felt too intimate. “This has to remain a secret. You cannot tell anyone about this, especially not _him._ ”

 

Hermione nodded, understanding that this secret coming out would destroy Theo.

 

“I promise.”

 

Theo let out a relieved sigh, not noticing that a pair of hard grey eyes had been following the last part of their conversation from the doorway.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter sneak peak:
> 
> _“What is it she cannot tell me?” Draco asked calmly, his icy voice dangerously calm._


	25. Chapter 25

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things get cleared up between Draco and Theo.
> 
> Short chapter, next one up will be the long awaited Malfoy Christmas Ball!

Draco sat down in one of the comfortable chairs next to the fireplace at the office. He sat still as a statue, like a lion lying in wait to catch his prey.

 

Even though his body was frozen in place, his mind was processing everything he’d just seen at a breakneck speed.

 

Theo standing close to Hermione, gently holding her face between his hands. Theo whispering her name, telling her they had to keep this a secret. Had to keep everything from him. Hermione, with her large and expressive eyes, looking at Theo and promising him that she would keep her mouth shut.

 

Deep down Draco knew that Hermione loved him. That she would never betray him like this. _No. No, she loves you for fuck’s sake. She said so herself; she’s falling for you._

But his overactive brain was going over and over the scene he had unintendedly witnessed, the words he’d clearly heard. And so red-hot jealousy was pumping through his veins. He could and would control it – he always did – but that didn’t mean he wasn’t going to confront Theo. He trusted Hermione, but still would demand an explanation.

 

And so Draco waited until Theo would come up to Floo back home.

 

He didn’t have to wait too long before he heard the stairs creak and footsteps drawing closer.

Theo entered the room, unaware of Draco’s presence, and seemed to be lost in his own thoughts as he strolled towards the fireplace.

 

“What is it she cannot tell me?” Draco asked calmly, his icy voice dangerously calm.

 

Theo jumped back slightly, his fingers reaching for his wand before he recognised Draco sitting there. He was clearly taken by surprise. _Good._

 

“Fuck! Draco!” Theo exclaimed and laughed nervously. “Give me a heart attack, why don’t you? Let me remind you that you are not the next in line for the Nott fortune as well, Lord Malfoy and Black.”

 

“What is it she cannot tell me?” Draco repeated his question, not in the mood to play along with Theo and his usual banter.

 

“Tell you what?” Theo asked, looking genuinely confused.

 

“ _’You cannot tell anyone about this Hermione, especially not him.’”_ Draco mimicked him. “Don’t act the fool, it doesn’t suit you.”

 

To his great surprise, Theo started laughing.

“Oh Draco mate, you should know that nothing good ever came from eavesdropping.”

 

Draco shot him an irritated glare and got up from his seat. Hiding his hands in his pockets to conceal his unease and stretching his back until he was at his full, intimidating height, he tried again.

 

“Well, if you do not wish to tell me... If it’s not truly a secret, I can just ask Hermione. There are no secrets between us.” he shrugged casually.

 

Draco noticed that Theo stiffened just a hair, barely enough for him to notice. But he’d known his friend for too long; he could read him perfectly. So there clearly was something his friend was trying to hide from him. And Hermione knew what it was.

 

Theo sighed and stepped closer to the fireplace, partially turning his back to Draco.

 

“Look mate, you can ask her, but she won’t tell you. It’s not her secret to tell and knowing that lioness downstairs, she’ll do the right thing and protect it.”

 

Draco waited, knowing that Theo wasn’t done yet. As the silence stretched on between them, he wondered what it was that was so difficult to reveal, when Hermione clearly was in on it too.

 

“I know you Draco, and I know that you deserve everything that witch has to offer. So I’m not going to be the one to throw things around that could potentially divide the two of you. I don’t want you to have to keep things from each other because of me. Merlin knows it’s already hard enough for the two of you out there.”

 

Theo kept his face in the shadows and Draco wondered what it was that he was hiding for him, why he did not want Draco to see his expression.

 

“We were discussing a person I’ve taken a liking to.” Theo finally admitted.

 

Draco felt a grin spreading across his face.

“That’s wonderful! I don’t see why that would be something you’d have to conceal for me though. If it’s her background that is the issue, well Hell, I’m seeing a Muggle-born myself.”

 

“Well, it’s quite delicate, as it’s a one-sided affair.”

 

Draco’s grin disappeared again. As much as he liked to tease Theo, now was clearly not the time. Draco himself knew better than anyone what it was like to pine after someone who wasn’t available. Who was so far out of your reach that you only could watch from the sidelines and hope that she was happy.

 

“She’s taken?” Draco inquired, putting a hand on Theo’s shoulder.

 

“Yes.” Theo confirmed, then swallowed.

“He’s happy with someone else.”

 

Draco froze for a second. He knew he had perfectly understood Theo, and that there was no mistaking the ‘he’. Suddenly, the conversation with Hermione made sense: Theo telling her that _he_ couldn’t know. They hadn’t been talking about Draco. Theo must have meant the man he was talking about, the one he… _Merlin._

 

Suddenly feeling guilty for immediately assuming things and taking his time to process this right now, Draco strengthened his grip on Theo’s shoulder. Whatever it was, he would not let down his oldest friend. Draco knew that if word got out, Theo would most likely be ostracized from Pureblood society. The wizarding world simply held no place for wizards who did not follow tradition and did not put the survival of their House first. Theo’s relationship with a man would never be accepted in their circles. Suddenly, Theo’s earlier words echoed in Draco’s mind. _‘Merlin knows it’s already hard enough for the two of you out there.’. ‘Think what you are willing to sacrifice for her, because you’ll have to.’._ Fuck. Bringing Hermione into that same Pureblood society would be equally hard. But that was not something Draco wanted to worry about now. He had to focus on his friend first.

 

“Fuck, that sucks.” was the only thing he could think of saying right now.

 

“Yeah.” Theo replied weakly. Only when Draco did no let go of Theo’s shoulder, but squeezed it in sympathy, did Theo turn around to face Draco again.

In his eyes, Draco recognised a tired sort of relief that he still could call Draco his friend, even with the truth out in the open now.

 

Suddenly Draco smirked and slung his arm around Theo’s neck.

“No worries mate, we’ll find you someone who’s almost as handsome, charming and irresistible as me.”

 

Theo’s mischievous grin was back now, and he used his free hand to tousle Draco’s hair.

 

“Theodore Nott!” suddenly came from the doorway, and both men looked up to see Hermione standing there, arms crossed in front of her chest and tapping her foot impatiently. The mischievous glint in her eye however, betrayed her good spirits.

 

“What did I tell you about flirting with my man?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter sneak peak:
> 
> _“Minx. Don’t forget just who you are playing with.” he drawled. “Let’s go downstairs before I ruin your dress, hair and my good standing with my mother, who will not be pleased if we are late.”_


	26. Chapter 26

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The time for the Christmas ball and Draco's and Hermione's first public outing is finally upon them! How will Hermione survive the Pureblood event? And how much will Draco like the gift she's made for him?

Hermione checked her hairdo for a very last time, making sure every straightened-out curl was still firmly in place. Even though she still wasn’t fully accustomed to having House Elves flitting about and doing all sorts of work for her, she had to admit that Narcissa’s personal Elf, Cosette, had really talented fingers. She’d transformed Hermione’s hair into an elegant coiffure she would never have been able to create all by herself.

 

The intricate braided hair was the finishing touch to what was, and she had to admit it herself, an overall stunning look. She felt elegant, sexy and confident in her long gown. With a last smile over her shoulder in the mirror – _damn_ her figure really looked good in that dress – she decided it was time to join the party downstairs.

 

The Malfoy Christmas Ball was not being held at the Manor, but at another estate up in the Highlands. Whether the unsavory events of the past years had anything to do with it, Hermione could only guess. But she was grateful for it all the same. She didn’t know whether she’d be able to stomach the idea of dancing at a ball in the very house where she’d been tortured. And she could only assume that Draco’s refusal to live in the Manor after all that had happened there would translate into never wanting to set foot in that awful place if he could help it.

 

“Radok!” she called out, and before she’d even finished pronouncing the name, Draco’s House Elf had already appeared in front of her with a soft pop.

 

“Miss Hermione calls Radok?” he inquired while he politely bowed. Even though the Elf had been wary and distant at first, he’d quickly come around once he’d taken note of the importance of Hermione in his Master’s life.

 

“Evening Radok. I would be grateful if you could show me where I can wait for Draco.” she asked just as politely. She couldn’t bring herself to order the creatures around and had noticed that Draco and Narcissa were quite respectful towards their servants as well.

 

“Radok will bring Master Draco to Miss Hermione.”

 

Without waiting for her reply, Radok disappeared again, only to pop back into her room, Draco in tow, a few seconds later. Hermione smiled at the thought that Draco had been ready and waiting for her, to go downstairs together.

 

“Hello there.” she smiled seductively, slowly walking up to him with extra sway to her hips.

 

Draco seemed to like what he saw, for he shot her a very boyish lopsided smile. With a quick gesture of his index finger, he signaled for her to spin around. Which she did with a light laugh.

 

“Perfection.” Draco complimented as he stepped forward and let her spin straight into his waiting arms.

 

“You do no look so bad yourself, Mister Malfoy.” Hermione replied as she fiddled with his dark silver bow tie. It brought out the grey of his eyes and lightened up his black formal dress robes.

“In fact, I was just wondering if you have any plans later tonight.”

 

Draco raised a playful eyebrow at her.

“Miss Granger, such bold proposal. I am flattered, truly. However, I must disappoint you. I already have arrangements with a lovely witch. Heard she has a fierce temper though, so I would not want to end up on her bad side.”

 

“Pity, I had such plans to have my wicked way with you.” Hermione quipped in return. She pressed a hot kiss on his neck, on the sweet spot right below his ear, which she knew would make him weak in the knees. To her very satisfaction, Draco tightened his grip on her hips, pulling her flush against his front. She could feel his growing excitement through his dress robes.

 

“Minx. Don’t forget just who you are playing with.” he drawled. “Let’s go downstairs before I ruin your dress, hair and my good standing with my mother, who will not be pleased if we are late.”

 

Hermione nodded and took a step back, only for Draco to follow her and press his lips against hers in a searing kiss.

 

“Later.” he promised. He then took her by the hand and led her out of the room, down the stairs and into the foyer. Narcissa, ever the welcoming hostess, stood by the ballroom doors, greeting her guests and making sure everything was running smoothly.

 

“Draco darling! Hermione!” she exclaimed as she warmly greeted the couple. After hugging and kissing both Draco and Hermione, she ushered them into the ballroom, under the orders to mingle, drink and enjoy themselves.

 

“Champagne?” Draco inquired as he gently guided her into the opulent ballroom. Hermione nodded absentmindedly at him as she took in her surroundings. Clusters of guests were starting to fill the spacious room, leaving only the middle of the dancefloor empty. They were all in their finest eveningwear and Hermione was glad she had been careful in selecting her own gown.

 

She accepted her champagne with a murmured thanks and clinked it against Draco’s glass. She could not help but send him a brilliant smile. He seemed to be in his element, familiar with attending formal events like this. But more importantly, he looked happy. Hermione knew that it meant a great deal to him that she was attending his mother’s Christmas gala at his side. It was their first official outing as a couple and Hermione had her suspicions that it was more important to Draco than he let on.

 

They had been careful with going out in public together and had taken things slow. Hermione assumed that Draco had curbed his enthousiasm for her sake, but knowing him he’d been dying to stake his claim and call her his. The way he now stuck by her side while he greeted guests and introduced her, the slightly possessive hand on her lower back, his hot breath on her neck every time he bent down to whisper something in her ear…  Hermione had come to recognise these little things as ways of Draco to show to everyone that they belonged together. To warn them that getting in Hermione’s way had consequences, as it equaled getting in a Malfoy’s way.

 

And Hermione was glad for his silent support and protection. Even though all the guests greeted her politely and even made small talk now and then, she also could feel the dark and condescending looks, hear the whispers as soon as she’d turned her back. Outwardly, she squared her shoulders, lifted her chin and carried on as if there wasn’t a thing amiss. But inwardly, it saddened her that she felt like an outsider. That despite a damn _war_ that had cost them all too much, the Purebloods just carried on as before in their own little circles.

 

All too soon, Narcissa spoke a few warm welcoming words and formally announced the ball to be opened. As soft music began to fill the room Draco formally bowed and held out his hand.

 

“Would you do me the honour?” he asked with a serious voice, although his eyes glinted with mischievousness.

 

“The honour is all mine, Lord Malfoy.” Hermione answered as she dropped into a deep curtsy, as Pureblood etiquette dictated. She let Draco lead her to the middle of the room and sweep her into his arms. With an ease that betrayed his years of practice, Draco maneuvered them around the room, his silver eyes never leaving hers.

 

“You look so lovely tonight.” he breathed, just loud enough for her to catch it. “I cannot tell you what it means to me to have you here with me. I…” Draco swallowed, clearly struggling with expressing his feelings without giving away too much when the crowd’s attention was fixed on the both of them. Hermione could imagine that it was not easy for him, having been taught to keep his feelings to himself for most of his life. To wear that mask in public all the time. But he did not need to say anything, for his eyes, usually so guarded, now told her everything. And it warmed her whole body and made her heart soar.

 

“I know.” Hermione smiled softly.

 

At that moment, the first dance ended. But while Draco should repeat his earlier bow, he now refused to let go of Hermione’s hands, bringing them up to his lip and pressing light kisses on them instead.

 

“I’ll be right back” Hermione said and she inclined her head toward the powder room.

Draco nodded and scanned the room for a familiar face to keep himself occupied until Hermione returned.

 

Hermione took a few steps, then halted and turned around again.

 

“Draco?” she called out, and her wizard froze mid-step and turned his head in question.

 

“Me too.”

 

She just caught his blinding _genuine_ smile before she spun around again and wormed her way through the crowd.

 

*

 

“That was an unexpected development.” an unfamiliar voice came from her left side.

 

Hermione looked up to find Pansy Parkinson taking up a spot right next to her in front of the mirror.

 

“Pardon?” Hermione tried, even though she had a feeling where the conversation was going.

 

Pansy however carried no as if she had not been interrupted at all.

“I must admit, I do see that the both of you have some characteristics in common – probably why the whole potions business is working out so well. But still, not what I expected from Draco.”

 

Hermione knew she should not react, but she just could not help herself.

“I think he has been surprising everyone in more than one way.”

 

Pansy grimaced in the mirror.

“Perhaps so, but still, I always believed he would choose someone who has enjoyed the necessary training and possesses the required skills to be the next Lady Malfoy in our circles. Draco values tradition, just like his mother. But I suppose with the help of some good teachers, these things can be remedied. Not _all_ things of course – some things are just in your blood from birth on. Or aren’t.” The last sentence was uttered with as much disdain as Pansy could muster – it was clear what exactly she was referring to.

 

Hermione was unable to utter a single word, she was taken aback by Pansy’s rude remark about her Muggle-born heritage. However, Pansy was oblivious to Hermione’s angry stare and just continued.

 

“I am sure Narcissa will only hire the best to get you up to speed – after all, you have years of training to catch up to. And even then, it will not be easy to be accepted into _our_ circles. Don’t know what Draco was thinking bringing _you_ into this. I simply do not see how this could last.”

 

Hermione tried to breathe calmly and maintain her outer cool composure. To lash out now would decidedly not be a good idea. Although she would enjoy fantasizing about all the hexes she could fire off at Parkinson later on.

 

With a cold stare and a raised eyebrow, Hermione turned around, casually leaning against the marble vanity with her right hip.

 

“I’m sure it’s that excellent training in everything etiquette is what made all those Pureblood girls so successful in keeping Draco’s attention.” Hermione knew it was a low blow, as Pansy herself had followed Draco around like a dog all around Hogwarts. But damn it, she recognised Pansy’s jealousy for what it was and would take advantage of the woman’s fiery temper.

 

“At least I did not have to resort to spreading my legs for him to notice me in the first place!” Pansy spat back.

 

Hermione just crossed her arms in front of her and smiled. There was something exhilarating about having a verbal argument and seeing the opposite party lose their cool. It made her feel even more in  control.

 

“For the sake of clarity and completeness, it’s usually Draco who does the spread-“ Hermione started in a very serious tone, but Pansy smacked down her hand mirror with so much force it cracked.

 

“Draco will tire of you soon enough. You’re nothing but a cheap Mudblood whore!” Pansy snarled.

 

Hermione just grinned like a cat who got the cream.

“Very elegantly put Pansy. What does your precious etiquette say about that, hm?”

 

Hermione pushed off the marble with her hip and started to walk towards the door.

But she couldn’t resist stopping before she opened it and turned her head so she could see Pansy’s burning eyes staring back at her in the mirror.

 

“You may call me a whore – very rich coming from you by the way – but at least I have him coming back for more. Not something you can say, isn’t it?”

 

Hermione didn’t wait for Pansy’s reaction and slipped out of the powder room, back into the hallway leading towards the ballroom. However, she did hear something crash against the door on the other side.

 

*

 

The rest of the night went by in a blur. Hermione danced with Draco and Theo. Most other Pureblood wizards ignored her and did not invite her for a dance as custom would dictate them. And that was fine by Hermione. She wouldn’t know what to say during such awkward obligatory dance anyway. So she let Draco spin her around the room until she was dizzy and seeking support into his safe embrace. And Theo, he always had a dry comment ready as he led her through the intricate patterns of the traditional dances. Deep down Hermione wanted to talk to him about his revelation the other night, but she knew that it would not be appreciated. So she laughed, danced and poked fun of the Nott Head of House in return. All in all the evening had gone along Hermione’s expectations: all she could do was enjoy the moments she had with the people who truly cared for her, and ignore all the stares, whispers and the confrontation with Parkinson.

 

Draco and she had just said their goodbyes to Narcissa, who _insisted_ to have brunch again the next day. Hermione had wanted to groan at the prospect of having to drag herself out of bed before noon on Christmas Day, but restrained herself. She however noticed the slight tightening of Draco’s jaw, the only indication she got that he had identical thoughts about Christmas morning and how he would rather like to spend it.

 

They both Floo’d back to Draco’s apartment, as had become their usual ritual every night. Draco went first, not wanting to send Hermione in the event something had happened at his place. Understanding that it was Draco’s gentleman way of doing things rather than not trusting the wards they both had put up, Hermione let it slide. As she stepped out of the fireplace back at what she now called home, Draco had already draped his dress robes over a chair and was undoing his cufflinks.

 

Hermione put her clutch on the nearest table and went straight for the bar.

 

“Fancy a nightcap with me?” she asked innocently, knowing Draco probably wouldn’t refuse. That’s why she had hidden her Christmas gift for him between the neatly lined up bottles.

 

“Yes, thank you. Whatever you’re having love.” Draco said as he started rolling up his shirtsleeves.

 

Hermione poured two glasses of excellent elven wine from the French Malfoy vineyards, wanting something light after an evening of eating, drinking and dancing.

She took both glasses and her little green velvet box towards the nearest couch, wanting to hand Draco his glass once he’d settled down. As Hermione neared the sofa, Draco’s hands shot out and encircled her waist, pulling her straight into his lap. With a surprised laugh Hermione let him, careful not to spill their drinks or lose the box.

 

“Draco!” she giggled as she handed him his glass and swatted his arm.

 

“You looked so beautiful tonight. I barely could keep my hands off you.” Draco confessed as he let his free hand trail a path up her spine, her neck and into her hair. It sent shivers all over Hermione’s body and she relaxed into his touch. It was so easy to lose herself completely into him, to play and tease and master this dance of give-and-take with him. But she had a gift to give and needed to focus for just a bit longer.

 

She took a sip of her wine and after Draco had done the same, took both their glasses away.

Confusion flashed in Draco’s eyes before it was replaced with curiosity. As his gaze lowered towards her hands holding the box he leaned back and relaxed.

 

“Draco,” Hermione started and she basked in the loving look he was sending her. “I know that we have been open and honest about our relationship and our feelings for one another. But I’ve always believed that actions speak louder than words. That there are other ways to truly express the depth of the love one can have for another. So tonight, I wanted to give you something more than words.” As she moved to give him the box, Draco placed his hand on top of hers, halting her movement.

 

“Hermione… I will always say yes to anything you want, but by my wand, I swear, if you are about to steal my one glorious moment and propose to me…”

 

He sounded a bit panicked and Hermione shut him up in the best way she knew; she pressed an openmouthed kiss right under his ear. She could hear Draco’s breath hitch and smiled against his skin. His confession that he wanted to marry her and had plans to eventually ask her made her heart skip a beat.

 

“Don’t worry, for Muggles it usually also is the man asking the woman.” Hermione smiled back up at him. “And every girl likes to be wooed from time to time. But I will remember that you technically already said yes.”

 

Draco glared at her and nipped at her bottom lip. “Witch.”

 

Hermione leaned back, out of his reach and gazed at her handsome wizard. She knew that he would insist on certain traditions, especially concerning courting and marriage. And there were a lot of them in that regard – she’d read them all.

 

“Happy Christmas Draco.” Hermione whispered as she pressed the velvet box into his hands.

 

He carefully turned it around a few times, as if assessing what could be inside. Draco then carefully lifted the lid and revealed one single vial with pearlescent liquid that was giving off a fine plume of white smoke.

 

His inquisitive frown was all Hermione needed to launch into her prepared speech.

 

“What to get for a man who already has everything? I created you a potion, using my catalogue. It’s based on the Amortentia potion, although it does not even share half of the ingredients with it anymore. You have to smell it.”

 

Hermione tried to stand up from Draco’s lap, but an iron grip around her waist prevented her to do so.

 

“Could you hold this for me?” Draco asked as he handed her back the velvet box, so he could take out the vial. The seemingly careless gesture spoke volumes of his trust in her, of how he would not question this new and unknown potion or its effects on him.

 

With one last flicker of his eyes towards her – she could not read them as it was gone in an instant – he unstoppered the vial underneath his nose, inhaled a tiny fraction of the gas and immediately closed the vial again. He leaned back and closed his eyes.

 

Hermione could indicate the exact moment the potion took effect. Draco’s features softened visibly, a blissful smile forming on his lips and lighting up his whole face. He let out a shuddered breath and Hermione noticed goosebumps forming all over his skin.

 

After a few more seconds Draco opened his eyes again. They were still slightly glazed over.

 

“What _is_ that?” he inquired, his voice full of wonder.

 

Hermione shot him a secret smile.

“What did you feel?”

 

“It was warm and light and … as if I was being immersed in the most glorious, overwhelming…. I cannot describe it. It felt light… and pure if that makes any sense. It made me feel blissfully happy. As if I could take on the world, but at the same time I felt… safe, protected. What was it?”

 

“The potion makes you experience the feelings the giver of it has for or about you. What you just experienced Draco, were my feelings for you.”

 

For a heartbeat Draco was silent, as if fully processing what Hermione had just told him. The next he gripped her more tightly, toppled her over on the sofa and pressed his lips against hers as he pressed his body into hers.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Over 100 bookmarks! *blushes like any girl who'd just gotten a playful wink from Draco*
> 
>  
> 
> Next chapter sneak peak:
> 
>  
> 
> _“You” Hermione found her voice again after a while, “will be the death of me.”_
> 
>  
> 
> _Draco preened. “But it would be a very satisfactory death.”_
> 
>  
> 
> _Hermione leaned back, her sparkling eyes finding his. “No, I meant that your mother will probably skin the both of us alive for being late to her brunch.”_  
> 


	27. Chapter 27

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's Draco's turn to surprise Hermione with a gift.   
> And how will both of them attending Harry Potter's New Year's Eve celebration go?

“Draco! No!” Hermione shrieked as she tried to sprint away, out of his grip. But he was faster – there was a reason why he’d been a good Seeker – and pulled her back onto his lap, finding the closest seat to lower himself into. Not that she had wanted to escape in the first place. They were in the master bedroom in Draco’s apartment, and if their behaviour of the past night was any indication, Draco would have bet a hefty amount that they were both drunk on the effects of the potion Hermione had given him. He knew the thought of that divine smell in that vial alone made him lightheaded. Merlin, he could not get enough of this magnificent witch. He bit his lip and gave her his best devilish grin.

 

Hermione returned his smirk with a sly smile and bent closer, until Draco could feel the pleasant tingle of her breath on his lips. His eyes darted towards her nightdress now – her movement allowed him a delicious view of her breasts and Draco could feel his fingers itching to touch her. That devilish minx knew exactly what she was doing to him, but he gladly allowed her to play her game. For now.

 

“And where exactly were you going?” Draco inquired, keeping her pinned on his lap.

 

“The more relevant question here would be: where exactly do you want me Draco?” Hermione whispered, “Because honestly, I do prefer your luxurious bed to this chair.”

 

“Then you should have dressed differently, my dear. I’m not known to be a patient wizard.” Draco grinned and grabbed her hips, lifting her more snugly onto his lap, making sure she had one smooth leg on either side of his. He pulled her down, grinding his hips against hers. Hermione’s throaty moan was soft but demanding, and Draco more than happily complied. His lips latched onto the side of her neck and travelled upwards, along her throat towards her ear. Hermione’s head fell back in response to his touch.

 

“Don’t you like my dress then?” Hermione teased while gripping his shoulders for support.

 

“I believe you knew exactly where it would end up when you put it on.” Draco replied. She knew very well that her wearing the Malfoy colours – black and green - was something that pleased him immensely.

 

While one hand stroked its way up her thigh, Draco used his other one to open his pants to free his erection. He was hard for her, needed the release, needed to bury himself within her. Again. His stroking hand now reached her soft buttocks but did not meet any other fabric than the satin of her dress.

The confirmation that she was not wearing anything underneath it at all made him growl with satisfaction.

 

He used one hand to lift her skirt a little bit more, then lifted his hips, easily sliding all the way in. She was so wet, so ready for him. Hermione’s breath hitched and she closed her eyes, her whole body shivering as he filled her. Draco withdrew almost completely before slamming into her wet heat again, not able to hold back a low groan. He repeated his rough movements, picking up the pace as he studied Hermione’s passionate reactions. Her soft moans, her nails digging into his shoulders, the urgency with which her hips met his in their fierce lovemaking, … they all pushed him towards the brink more quickly than he would have expected. Draco could feel she was close as well, clinging onto him as if he was the only thing that kept her from falling and being swept away by her climax. It nearly drove him insane to know that there might be a possibility that he’d always be the only one to push her over that edge and give her that pleasure. Because she truly loved him.

 

His rhythm started to grow more erratic, frantic, his movements more fierce.

 

“Draco… Draco…” Hermione sobbed, begging for her release. Draco changed the angle of his hips a hair and thrust upwards one last time, while pulling her down onto him roughly. With a cry she came, and the feeling of her clenching around his arousal instantly triggered his own release.

 

They remained motionless for a while, both panting and enjoying the fading waves of their climaxes. Hermione started nipping Draco’s neck, and he let her, enjoying the shiver down his spine it caused.

 

“You” Hermione found her voice again after a while, “will be the death of me.”

 

Draco preened. “But it would be a very satisfactory death.”

 

Hermione leaned back, her sparkling eyes finding his. “No, I meant that your mother will probably skin the both of us alive for being late to her brunch.”

 

Draco threw back his head and laughed.

 

Needless to say, they did not make it in time. Narcissa frowned, but Draco did recognise the satisfied glint in her eyes. After all, she knew what he’d retrieved from the Malfoy vaults just last week.

 

*

 

“Hermione?” Draco called out to her in a soft voice. The past few days had flown by. Draco and Hermione had been so wrapped up in each other, for once not obliged to bother with families, social circles, potion deals or anything else going on in the world. They’d stayed in, having food delivered by Radok or Muggle take-away (Hermione insisted that no better sushi could be had than from her favourite place in Muggle London). They hardly left the bed anyway, preferring to Accio things they needed to the bedroom instead of leaving each other’s warmth.

 

The realisation that it was already December 31st and that he was about to attend a New Year’s celebration in Potter’s home hit Draco extra hard. Salazar’s balls, he was almost as nervous as a first year before the Sorting ceremony. _It’s just Hermione’s friends. And Hermione will be there. And if you behave, you’ll probably be rewarded._

 

But before they could head out, Draco wanted to give Hermione his gift for the holidays. He’d already given her something at Christmas – nothing as perfect as her potion of course, but his true gift had taken him a bit longer to perfect.

 

He’d kept the flat velvet box tucked inside his robes all day long, but had not yet found the right moment to give its contents to her. And now they were expected at Potter’s home in less than half an hour.

 

“In here.” Hermione called from the bathroom, no doubt putting a last hand on her hairdo or make-up. Draco had seen his own mother do this countless times.

 

As Draco entered the ensuite bathroom, he indeed found Hermione sitting in front of the vanity, combing the braid that didn’t quite manage to keep her curls in check but gave her an overall sexy nonchalant look anyway. But then again, Draco thought she looked good in about anything.  

 

He stepped closer, until he was standing right behind her and caught her gaze in the mirror. Draco pressed a kiss on her bare shoulder, holding her gaze.

 

“You look lovely, as always.” he complimented as he snaked his arms around her waist. “How fashionably late can we be?” He let his fingers trail a path up from her waist to the sides of her breasts. If he just toyed a little bit more with them, he was sure her pert nipples would be visible through the fabric of her dress.

 

Hermione swatted at his roaming hands. “We will be there on time, Draco.”

Draco pouted at her and she laughed.

“Who knows? Good things come to boys who wait.” she added with a playful smirk.

 

“Not helping here.” Draco complained, but he let her go anyway.

 

“Before we go, I still have something for you.” he said, taking the velvet box out of his pocket.

 

He noticed Hermione’s eyes widening as she spotted his gift, knowing that it could not be anything else but jewelry. The Malfoy crest on the lid of the box only made her swallow in anticipation.

 

“When a boy finds that one girl – the one who has stolen his heart, who will give his life meaning and without whom he is lost and incomplete – he wants the world to know. That he belongs to her, just as much as she belongs to him. He wants the world to see that he will follow her anywhere and will burn down said world if anyone would dare to touch her. So he gives her a token, a promise made that his heart belongs to her. And if he should be so lucky that she chooses to accept the token, the world knows that he is courting her, is devoted to her and will not hesitate to do what is necessary to protect her.”

 

Draco knelt next to her chair and opened the box, revealing a simple yet elegant necklace: a gold and diamond band with a teardrop pendant almost as big as Hermione’s thumb. The stone set in the pendant had a beautiful, deep red-purple-like colour.

 

Hermione gasped audibly, her hand flying up to cover her mouth.

 

“Draco…” she choked. Her eyes, shining with unshed tears, searched his. The emotion he found there, in her warm brown orbs, was what he needed to ask his next question.

 

“Be mine Hermione.” he softly said, his voice steady with determination.

 

She gave him a lovely smile, and his heart soared. With a slight tilt of her head, she nodded at him.

Draco got up again and carefully removed the necklace from the box. He then took his place behind Hermione again and gently draped the jewel around her neck, the precious gemstone resting lightly below the hollow of her throat.

 

“It’s alexandrite, a rare gemstone that changes colour depending on the light. This one has been in my family for almost 150 years. It reminded me of you, more than any of the other ostentatious pieces in the Malfoy vaults. It’s precious and mysterious, simple yet elegant. By day, it has a greenish colour, proudly displaying the colours of the House Malfoy. But by night, my lioness, it becomes a dark blood red, showing its true wild colours.”

 

Hermione listened to Draco’s explanation, fingering the gemstone as if she couldn’t quite believe it was there. But she looked happy, and that was all the mattered to Draco.

 

“What does it mean, me wearing this?” Hermione asked.

Draco smiled. He should have known she would ask the right questions, even though every Pureblood girl would have known what it meant to receive something like this. But it meant Hermione was learning about his traditions, recognising that it meant something to him to do things the right way.

 

“It means that we are officially courting, that you are off limits for other wizards. That if harm should come to you, me and my House will protect, defend and avenge you.”

 

Draco did not want to go into further detail, as it would take them too far, but he hoped he had managed to convey the message that this was no ordinary piece of jewelry, yet not an engagement piece either.

 

Hermione was still fingering the pendant and closed her eyes, as if to better experience wearing his token of his dedication to her.

 

“There’s magic attached to it… It feels old and powerful. Almost warm against my skin.” Hermione said, the question evident in her tone.

 

“It has been doused with protection spells and wards. It even can serve as an emergency reservoir of magic. In dire need, you will be able to tap into it, just enough to get you to safety.” Draco responded. He’d personally inspected each and every layer of magic wrapped around the gemstone, ensuring that the good charms remained and taking out the unnecessary and too Pureblood ones.

 

Hermione got up and stepped into Draco’s waiting arms. She placed her hands over his heart and snuggled into his embrace. They stayed like that for a good minute, just soaking in each other’s warmth and love, enjoying the consequences of him giving her the piece, and her accepting it.

 

“Thank you.” she whispered at last. “I’m honoured to accept it. And you.”

 

She lightly pressed her lips against his.

Draco smiled into the kiss. Leave it to Hermione to take the etiquette books to heart and to formally accept his gesture. He loved that she recognised it for what it was: him offering his heart and life to be hers.

 

*

 

Needless to say, they did not make it to Potter’s party in time. Draco decided to let Hermione take the lead, since the whole house was filled with her friends and acquaintances. Even though Draco did recognise a few faces from school and from the Ministry – and even from those horrible Pureblood events his parents had dragged him to when he was a child - , he hardly could put names to those faces. Not that he was inclined to do so with most of the other guests warily eyeing him and even openly sneering at him. He still was an ex-Death Eater after all. Draco was very much aware of the fact that it was not because Hermione had so easily forgiven him, the rest of the Wizarding World had done the same. So he stuck to Hermione’s side, figuring that was his safest bet.

 

Hermione warmly greeted Potter with a hug and to Draco’s surprise, Potter held out his hand in greeting.

 

“Malfoy.” Potter nodded and continued chatting to Hermione as if Draco accompanying Hermione to a party was the most natural thing in the world. Draco was oddly grateful for that normal treatment – one he did not receive from the hostess of the night, Ginny Weasley. He’d understood that the Weasley girl had all but ousted Hermione from Gryffindor House back at Hogwarts, so he wasn’t inclined to socialise too much with the redhead anyway. Whatever Potter saw in her was beyond him.

 

Ever the gentleman, Draco offered to get Hermione a drink as she caught up with Potter.

 

As he was selecting a red wine for the both of them – Potter had a quite impressive bar with mainly all sorts of Muggle concoctions – Draco felt someone standing beside him.

With a sideway glance, he recognised Neville Longbottom of all people.

 

“That’s a beautiful piece you got her.” the normally shy and clumsy boy – no _man_ – said quite confidently. “Original family heirloom or reset especially for her?”

 

“Reset. Understated elegance suits her more.” Draco found himself responding.

 

“Thought so.” Longbottom said nonchalantly, as if Draco and he had been friends all along. Then, to his utter shock, Longbottom turned towards him and held out his hand. Dumbstruck, Draco shook it, noticing Longbottom squeezed his hand a bit harder than necessary.

 

“About time someone made serious work of making her happy.” Longbottom continued, refusing to let go of Draco’s hand. His dark eyes had turned serious, his voice a notch colder than usual. “At least, that’s what I’ll believe until I see something different. And if that would happen…” Longbottom let go of Draco’s hand. In an instant, the jovial smile was back and Longbottom clapped him on the shoulder.

“See you around Malfoy.”

 

And with that, Longbottom walked off again, shouting at another former Gryffindor.

 

Draco blinked twice before he regained his senses and put his neutral mask in place again.

Had Longbottom just had the brotherly speech with him? Had the awkward, shy kid just _threatened_ him if he would ever hurt Hermione?

 

Draco stared at the other man’s back and wondered who else had grown up while he wasn’t looking.

 

*

 

Draco walked back towards where Hermione and Potter were still chatting, although they’d resorted to a hurried form of whispering.

 

“What do you mean, you have no idea?” Potter inquired, clearly getting more and more irritated. He’d never been good at tempering those emotions.

 

“I swear Harry, I have not received anything. This is the first I hear about this - congratulations by the way.” Hermione whispered back nervously. “Maybe there was a mistake, or a mix-up…”

 

“Fucking bullshit. And you know it.” Potter whispered furiously. “This is Molly’s and Ginny’s doing. Bloody hell, they _know_ how important you are to me!”

 

Hermione made a hushing sound at Potter, glancing around to check if no one had overheard their conversation. She spied Draco standing closeby, but did not give him any kind of indication that this discussion was not meant for his ears.

 

“Harry… Harry!” Hermione tried to get his full attention, but Potter was stubbornly looking away, searching for someone in the crowd. “Just listen to me. Let’s clear this all up in the morning. I am sure that this is a simple mistake. Just enjoy your party now. Alright?”

 

She clearly realised she was not getting through to Potter, for she took him by the shoulders and shook him lightly.

 

“Please Harry, promise me you’ll not make a scene tonight. _Promise_ me.” Hermione pleaded.

 

Potter looked back at her, then curtly nodded. Hermione relaxed in relief again.

 

“I’ll speak to you later.” Potter mumbled.

 

Hermione nodded. “My Floo is always open.” she confirmed before letting Potter go.

She then turned around and stepped closer to Draco.

 

“Are you alright?” he asked, concern lacing his voice.

 

“Not really, but we will figure this out. Why I expected for something to go smoothly for once in my life…” Hermione sighed while she took her glass from Draco and murmured a thanks.

 

While Draco was dying to know the details – something had clearly upset Hermione and Potter – he knew the party was not the time nor place.

 

“I think Longbottom just wished us the best.” Draco decided to change topics. By the look on Hermione’s astonished face, it worked.

“He’s from an old Pureblood line. Of course he recognised the pendant for what it was.”

 

Hermione smiled up sweetly, almost proudly at him. “I’m glad, he’s a good friend.” was all she said.

 

As no one else really seemed inclined to talk to them and Draco could clearly see that it had more of an effect on Hermione than she probably would want to admit, he proposed to go home as soon as they’d finished their glasses.

 

“Lead the way.” Draco offered as soon as they’d stepped outside in the garden, where people could Apparate. Hermione, understanding that Draco had overheard her conversation with Potter and by offering to spend the night at her apartment for once was being galant by giving Potter the best opportunity to Floo Hermione, kissed him on the nose before taking him straight to her bedroom.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter sneak peak:
> 
> _“Harry,” she called over her shoulder, “have you met Theo?”_


	28. Chapter 28

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry stops by to talk to Hermione about last night's party.   
> Theo makes an appearance, and has something interesting to tell about Hermione's necklace.

It was a good thing Hermione was up and about early in the morning, or Harry might have caught Draco and her in bed after Flooing in without prior warning. For Harry though, eight in the morning _was_ early, especially on New Year’s day after hosting a party.

 

“Coffee?” Hermione offered while she padded towards the kitchen. Harry nodded gratefully and followed her, still yawning.

 

“You were gone quite early last night.” Harry started and Hermione faced him to roll her eyes at him.

 

“It gets old pretty fast to be stared or sneered at. Especially by those who I, until very recently, considered friends and Housemates at Hogwarts.” Hermione sighed. “And after our chat… I just didn’t feel like celebrating too much anymore.”

 

She eyed her closed bedroom door, behind which her wizard was still sleeping. Unlike Hermione, Draco most decidedly was not a morning person. She couldn’t help but touch her new necklace, which felt like a part of her already after wearing it one evening. _And night_. Draco had insisted she kept it on in bed and after spotting the possessive and enthralled gleam in his eyes upon seeing her naked wearing only his courting gift, Hermione had not been able to refuse him.

 

“But still, he is worth it.” Hermione concluded. “How was it?”

She did not need to elaborate, Harry knew perfectly well what she was asking.

 

He sighed and accepted his hot cup of black, strong Italian espresso. He savoured the comforting smell for a second before answering.

 

“As bad as expected. She tried to deny it at first of course. Then tried to play the ignorance card by blaming Molly. In the end, she finally admitted that she had not wanted to invite you, because _he_ would tag along.”

 

Hermione shot Harry a sympathetic look as she carefully sipped her hot coffee. She remained silent, knowing Harry was not finished yet.

 

“Then happened what happens usually whenever I stick up for something she doesn’t agree with: Ginny and I had a terrible row. It was bad. Really bad. Screaming and crying and throwing things… She just… kept on expecting me to see her point of view, to agree with her. She doesn’t even want to acknowledge that what she did was wrong and that it hurt me. She right out said that I had to take into account her feelings as well and compromise ‘for once’. But how could I? You’re my best friend! You’re the sister I never had! And to not include you in my engagement party… then I’d rather not have an engagement party at all.”

 

The stubborn set of his jaw told Hermione all she needed to know.

 

“Oh Harry, surely you didn’t.”

 

The sad shake of his head confirmed her suspicions.

 

“How can I marry a girl who so effortlessly dismisses my wishes and then turns around and makes it all about herself? Who blames me for being inconsiderate when I want my best friend present at important events in my life? I know we were young when we started seeing each other, and that the war changed us all… I just hadn’t realised until now how much we’ve all changed. And maybe I did know, but I just did not want to see it. I wanted a happy family myself, like the Weasleys.”

 

Hermione got up, Levitated the two coffee cups onto the kitchen counter and strode over to Harry, wrapping him in a warm hug.

 

“Oh Harry, I’m so sorry.” she tried to comfort him. She knew how much he longed for a loving family, a warm nest to come home to.

 

“Me too.” Harry sighed, defeated. He all to easily leaned into Hermione’s embrace, leaning on her for support, physically and emotionally. “Me too.”

 

“So what now?” Hermione asked.

 

Harry let go of her again and turned away, occupying himself with his coffee cup once more.

 

“I honestly do not know. The engagement is off of course… after last night. I doubt whether we can recover from this. Whether we _want_ to. I …. I really do not know.”

 

Hermione’s heart ached at how lost her best friend looked. She touched his arm and gently squeezed it.

 

“We’ll figure it out. You’re not alone in this. You’re my brother, and there are very few things in the world that could make me abandon your side.”

 

Harry gave her a watery grin.

“Such as?”

 

Hermione lifted her chin an inch, looking haughty.

“Oh, you know, just the normal stuff all people have irreparable feuds over: murdering the love of one’s life, murdering one’s children, eating the last cookie from the jar without offering it first, …”

 

“So glad to hear you still have got your priorities sorted out.” Harry quipped.

 

“I’m not the Brightest Witch of her Age for nothing, thankyouverymuch.” Hermione smiled and then she got an idea.

“Come on, there is something I want to show you.”

 

Hermione took Harry’s hand and pulled him towards the Floo. After tossing in the powder and instructing Harry to follow her, she called out “Kaizen Laboratory” before disappearing.

 

*

 

“Whoa, this looks better than any lab I’ve ever seen, and that includes the Auror experimental division!” Harry marveled as he walked around. Even though Potions had never been his forte – Hermione purposefully ignored the episode where Harry had cheated using Snape’s old book – Harry could appreciate Draco’s and Hermione’s setup.

 

“So here’s where the magic happens?” Harry teased as he turned back towards Hermione, who was rummaging in one of the cupboards. Hermione had realised that she’d had stored the remnants of the first test batch of her invented potion in the lab, and she wanted Harry to smell it. Anything to cheer him up and distract him from his failed engagement and probably failed relationship.

 

“If with ‘magic’ you mean Draco’s and Hermione’s shenanigans, the answer is no. Probably not. Hopefully not. I’ve been keeping an eye on them. And putting sex-repelling spells on my desk. It’s the tidy one in the left corner, if you’re looking for somewhere safe to sit.” A third voice came from the doorway.

 

In sauntered a very cheerful looking Theo. Unlike Harry and herself, Theo did not show any signs of late-night partying. Hermione suddenly wondered what he had been doing on New Year’s Eve, alone and without friends or family as far as she knew.

 

“Theo! Happy New Year.” Hermione grinned as she skipped over towards the wizard and pulled him in a tight hug.

 

“May _all_ your wishes come true.” she whispered conspiratorially before letting go again.

 

“Harry,” she called over her shoulder, “have you met Theo?”

 

As Harry approached, Hermione formally introduced the two wizards. Theo subtly raised an eyebrow at Hermione’s suddenly too cheerful mood; it was a silent promise of a firm conversation later on.

 

“Harry, this is _Lord_ Theodore Nott of the esteemed House Nott, co-inventor and good friend. Theo, you might have heard of Harry Potter, Savior of the Wizarding Worl- ow!”

 

Hermione rubbed the spot under her ribs where Harry had poked her. He shrugged at her, stepped forward and stuck out his hand at Theo.

 

“Despite what she thinks, no introductions are needed. I remember you; same year at Hogwarts, isn’t it?” Harry said. “Nice to meet you.”

 

“Likewise.” was the only thing Theo said as he shook Harry’s hand. Someone who didn’t know Theo well would not have noticed anything out of the ordinary. But to Hermione Theo’s almost shy behaviour spoke volumes. She grinned a bit too widely at how flustered Theo seemed.

He quickly recovered however, like any well-trained Pureblood Lord would.

 

“What brings you here on a holiday, early in the morning no less?” he inquired.

 

“I could ask you the same.” Hermione shot back.

 

Theo merely shrugged and continued to stare at her and Harry expectantly.

Hermione decided that not only Harry could use some cheering up this morning.

 

“Well,” she started, with a calculating gleam in her eyes that should have warned Theo, “I was just about to try to improve Harry’s mood after last night’s incident with his fiancée.”

Hermione gave Theo a meaningful look as she spoke those last words.

 

“Oh? An incident?” Theo asked almost too casually. His eyes, flicking briefly towards Hermione, told her another story; he was most interested to hear this.

 

Harry, bless him, did not catch on the subtle glances Theo and Hermione were exchanging.

 

“I’m not sure whether I can still call her my fiancée after last night.” Harry sighed as he buried his hands in his trouser pockets.

 

“I’m sorry to hear that.” Theo offered, but Hermione knew that he was anything but sincere.

 

“And if you just give me a second, I will get you something that might cheer you up.” Hermione interrupted. “I think I left it in the study upstairs – be right back!” she exclaimed before darting out the door.

 

She paused for a moment and heard Harry and Theo pick up the conversation.

_Good._

 

She took her time locating the vial she’d carefully stashed away in the drawer where she kept all her samples, knowing at least one wizard downstairs wouldn’t mind the delay.

 

*

 

As expected, Harry had been more than delighted to experience the depth of Hermione’s and his bond after smelling her potion. Even though he was in an emotionally fragile state, Hermione didn’t regret her decision to take him to Kaizen for one second. The fact that Theo had decided to stop by had been an extra bonus.

 

Hermione could see that both wizards got along fabulously, even though Harry still was a bit cautious. But Hermione knew from experience that all Theo needed to win someone over was just a little bit more time.

 

She studied the young wizard as she returned to the basement after letting Harry out. However Theo had been feeling before his arrival here, Hermione could at least say that he looked a bit happier after meeting Harry.

 

“How was last night with loverboy, sent out into the lions’ den?” Theo teased.

 

Hermione shrugged.

“It still takes a bit of getting used to the changed dynamics within my group of friends and acquaintances now that Draco and I have publicly confirmed our relationship.”

 

“You mean that people were not as nice to you as they used to be before they knew their Golden Gryffindor Princess has been fraternizing with an ex-Death Eater.” Theo bluntly said. “Don’t give me that look, you know that’s what the Prophet says, what most people think. Actually, when you come to think about it, the Pureblood society has fussed less about Draco’s ties to you than your circles have about seeing you with him.”

 

Hermione sighed and fingered her pendant again. She knew he was right, that in the end it seemed – _seemed_ -  that Purebloods felt less inclined to voice their displeasure than the others. With the exception of Pansy Parkinson of course. If she was being honest, she wasn’t sure whether either side truly accepted her choices anyway. Purebloods looked down on her because of who she was and her own side, if she could call it that, turned away because of who she chose to be. It was exhausting, and left Hermione feeling rejected and disappointed. She tried to hide the crushing disappointment as good as she could, but she knew Draco knew.

 

Theo’s sharp eyes noticed the pendant around her neck and he whistled.

 

“So he’s all in then.” Theo smiled. “Congratulations.”

 

Hermione couldn’t help but smiling back proudly.

 

“So where does it Portkey back to? His place? Yours? Or does it transport him to you? I heard the Malfoys have always been famous for their modified Portkey spells with which they imbue their courting and wedding jewelry.”

 

Hermione blinked, confused. “Portkey?”

 

Theo eyed her for a moment, as if he was assessing how much he could and should tell her. It suddenly annoyed Hermione. If this was yet another Pureblood elite thing, she had the right to know what it was, especially if she had the damn thing around her neck twenty-four seven. Was that why Draco didn’t want her to take it off at night?

 

“Out with it Nott.” Hermione said a bit more harshly then she intended.

 

“Look, I know what is customary amongst Purebloods, but I have no way of telling whether Draco has followed all the traditional measures his family would normally take.” Theo warned.

 

He then leaned back against one of the work benches and assumed a very professor-like lecturing stance.

 

“Some of the prominent Pureblood families amongst the Sacred Twenty-Eight  - the Malfoys and Notts included – add additional protection spells to the courting and wedding jewelry their intended are wearing. A favourite is a peculiar charm, which enables the man to Portkey straight to his intended whenever she is in danger. Some allow the woman to Portkey out of a situation to someplace safe. Needless to say, these Portkeys are not registered with the Ministry of course.”

 

Hermione frowned. “So technically, the man would be tracking the woman. How else would he know where she is?”

 

Theo shook his head. “It’s not exactly tracking, as he does not know where she might be. It just enables him to appear by her side in an instant when needed.”

 

Theo’s explanation did not necessarily answer all Hermione’s questions.

“But how does he know she’s in danger?”

 

“That, I assume, depends on the caster of the charm to define the notion of ‘danger’ within the charm itself, so it is triggered based upon the wearer’s situation. It’s very interesting magic if you think about it. It’s not necessarily the charm itself that is complicated, but the intent behind it. Just like the Unforgivables, the intent of the caster determines the outcome. The difficulty would probably lie in the fact that the caster needs to understand the perception of the wearer in certain situations… sorry I’m getting too carried away.” Theo blushed.

 

Hermione smiled. She could see why he had picked Charms as the field of his Mastery. There was a genuine spark of excitement in his eyes whenever he started talking about his domain of expertise.

 

However, Hermione squinted her eyes at the thought of being subject to such magic by wearing a necklace. While she understood the no doubt good intention behind the set-up, to keep an intended safe, which certainly would have been useful back in the Middle Ages, it left a lot of variables open to the choice of one party. She wasn’t sure how much she liked that. Suddenly, the protective charms didn’t seem so romantic a gesture anymore.

 

“I can see you overthinking this.” Theo snapped her out of her thoughts. “Just don’t-”

 

A loud crash of something falling on the ground coming from upstairs startled them both. After sharing a confused look, they both whipped their wands out and charged towards the stairs leading up to the shop. As it was a public holiday, all shops in Diagon Alley were closed, including Kaizen.

 

“After me.” Theo commanded in an urgent whisper.

 

Hermione opened her mouth to protest, but Theo silenced her with a dark glare.

 

“Do you think Draco would forgive me if anything happened to you?” he hissed. “After me.”

As Hermione did not want to lose any more time arguing about that silly point – she’d been in a war and been hunted down by Voldemort himself for fuck’s sake! – she nodded and took half a step back.

 

Wands raised and poised to strike, they silently made their way up and then through the door. As they got closer, the crashing sounds of breaking glass got louder. Hermione swallowed at the thought of someone destroying what was no doubt the interior of their shop.

 

“On three. You shield.” Theo breathed and counted with his fingers.

When he reached three, they both jumped out. Hermione immediately crouched down and erected a strong shield for the both of them. It was a large rectangular one, so Theo still had an opening to fire off spells at the intruders.

 

At first glance, Hermione spotted three persons. They had Glamours and clothing hiding their features and making them unidentifiable, but she guessed it were three men based on their shape and build.

 

Theo shot a few non-verbal Stunners at them. The first one took out one unsuspecting wizard, which unfortunately warned the other two. They quickly put up their own shields, successfully barring Theo’s barrage of hexes. Hermione decided that her shield was strong enough to hold and started attacking the men as well. But the men were clearly surprised to find anyone present in the shop and were not there for a fight. “Retreat” one of them shouted. Hermione did not recognise his voice. As soon as they got the opportunity, they grabbed their fallen comrade and fled through the front door, beyond the anti-Apparition wards. They were gone in an instant.

 

Theo and Hermione ran after them in a fruitless pursuit. They turned towards the shop again and took in the havoc that had been wrecked in there. Shelves with products had been overturned and the floor was covered in glass. While all their potion vials and bottles were protected by an Unbreakable charm, other decoration, lighting fixtures and windows had been smashed.

 

Without thinking, Hermione activated the shop’s charm that would warn the Aurors. She turned around and paled as she read what was scrawled across the wall in large, messy letters: DEATH EATER WHORE. MUDBLOOD.

 

All her focus narrowed down to that one word: Mudblood. _Mudblood._ In the dark recesses of her mind, Hermione could hear an all too familiar cackle of a deluded witch, who had carved the very same word into her arm.

 

Hermione wanted to take a step back, but staggered, blindly trying to find something to hold on to, _anything_ , as she was starting to see spots. She barely registered that the frantic panting in the background was her own laboured breathing. She recognised the panic attack too late for what it was. _No no no no no._ She felt dizzy, desperate for air. _Mudblood._

 

“Fuck.” she heard Theo curse as he pulled her back and wrapped her into his arms. She let him, as she was too far gone to even say or do anything.

 

She barely registered the soft pop of someone Apparating and rushing inside. _Strange_ , she thought, _only two people can Apparate straight into the building._ She didn’t have the time nor focus to think further on it as she was pulled out of Theo’s arms into a new, warm and familiar crushing embrace. But the realization of who it was made her feel relieved at once.

 

Draco had come.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter sneak peak:
> 
> _Draco shook his head, letting his emotions run free now, together with his tears._
> 
> _“I don’t know. I love you Hermione, I love you.” his voice broke on the last word.  
> _


	29. Chapter 29

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is it. The one chapter I've been working towards. The Drama in Dramione.

**I think I’ve lost you now**   
  
**oh it’s such a shame**   
  
**but how can I be mad**   
  
**when I’m the one to blame**

 

_[Turn the Tide cover by Jasper Steverlinck]_

 

**________________________________________________**

 

 

He had been right to predict that Potter would come straight to him after finding Hermione’s apartment empty. He had also been right to deny Potter access to his own place, knowing the Auror would only upset Hermione or worse, think Draco would not be doing an adequate job taking care of her. As if he would ever let anything happen to her. _But you already did let something happen, didn’t you?_ a dark voice in the back of his mind taunted. He tried to suppress it. He knew that if it weren’t for him, she would not be targeted like she just had been. But then again, the lunatics who tried to destroy the shop and painted those obscenities on the wall were the real problem here. And Draco gladly let the Aurors deal with it. Even though he was entertaining the idea of putting his connections to good use to find out who was behind the sick messages.

 

In the end he did the decent thing and soothed Potter’s worries that yes, Hermione was with him and that yes, he was looking after her. As soon as she felt like it, she would contact him. His answer should Potter enough not to come and knock on his door. At least, that’s what anyone who knew Hermione in a bad mood would do. Draco grinned at the thought of Potter being roasted by Hermione. His witch could be quite fierce if she wanted to.

 

Hermione was awake and sitting upright in the bed as he returned from sending off his owl to Potter. Radok had already provided her with light food and tea, as per Draco’s instructions. The potion vials he’d provided as well to help with the nausea and headache, were still standing on the bedside table, untouched. She’d probably need those soon, as she still looked a bit pale.

 

Draco settled down on the side of the bed, next to her hip. He looked at her, worried eyes searching her face for any indication that she was not recovering as she should. She seemed a bit closed off, but Draco attributed that to the panic attack she’d just gone through. Not to mention the actual attack. Just thinking of it made his blood boil.

 

“How are you feeling?” he asked, placing his hand gently on the sheet covering her knee.

 

“I’ve been better.” she grimaced. “Been worse too.”

 

There was a heavy silence hanging between them after those words as they both were lost in their own thoughts for a moment.

 

“How did you get there so quickly?” Hermione asked. “The Aurors weren’t even there yet.” She sounded… wary. Draco wasn’t sure why that made him feel uneasy. As there was something he was missing.

 

“As soon as I became aware that you had been threatened, I Apparated straight in.” he replied. It was the simple truth.

 

Hermione sat up straighter and put her tea mug on the bedside table. Her free hand drifted towards the pendant around her neck.

 

“It’s the necklace, isn’t it?” she said. It didn’t sound like a question and by the tone of her voice, she wasn’t pleased. “Its protection charms alerted you that I was in danger and it brought you straight to me.”

 

Draco frowned, not really following what she was saying.

“What?”

 

Hermione sighed, almost as if she was annoyed that he wasn’t able to keep up. He’d seen that expression before, but it had usually been directed at either Potter or Weasley whenever they’d done something that wasn’t to Hermione’s liking. He wasn’t sure he liked being looked at that way.

 

“Theo told me about the Pureblood jewelry, the tracking spells put on them to _‘_ protect’ those who wear the given pieces. I know about how it acts as a reverse Portkey and summons you whenever I feel like I might be in danger.”

 

No, she definitely did not sound pleased at all. He looked up again and saw it so much more clearly now: the guarded expression in her eyes, as if she did not fully trust what he said or had done – well, what she thought he had done. She had heard some story and was assuming he would put a tracking spell on her. Salazar!

 

Draco shook his head, feeling a tingle of annoyance as well.

 

“I did not put any _tracking_ spells on your necklace Hermione.”

 

She squinted her eyes at him, not fully believing him. She pulled back her legs under the sheets, tucking them closer to her body. It was slightly painful to watch her physically pull back from him.

 

“Then how come you were there, even before the Aurors, Apparating in from seemingly out of nowhere?” she shot back, accusation lacing the tone of her voice.

 

Draco ran his hand through his hair, messing up the locks with the impatient gesture.

“Theo alerted me, he sent his Patronus and I came immediately.”

 

Hermione frowned, almost as if she was confused.

“He sent a Patronus? But I thought Dea-” She shut her mouth with an audible click of her teeth and even had the decency to look embarrassed for a moment, realizing her mistake. Too late, because they both knew what she had been about to say.

 

Draco’s gaze grew cold.

“What was that Hermione? Death Eaters don’t have a Patronus?”

 

She flushed bright red at that and cast down her eyes.

 

“For your information,” Draco said curtly, restraining his anger just like he’d been taught since he was a little boy. Malfoys didn’t show emotions. They were in control, all the time. Although whenever he was around Hermione, Draco easily forgot those lessons.  “Theo was never branded with the Mark. Not all Slytherins were followers of Voldemort. And a lot of non-Slytherins were. Theo _does_ have a Patronus, talented Charms apprentice that he is. And he was so kind to use it to inform me of the situation you both were in.

 

“And yes, most of the Malfoy jewelry is imbued with such _protection_ charms. But I had the one on your pendant lifted. I even checked it again myself, just to make sure no nasty Pureblood spells were lingering on something I wanted to gift to you. Because while your safety and wellbeing are my priority, I am not so foolish as to think that you’re not capable of taking care of yourself. I would never, _ever_ , dare to put a tracking spell on you. _Ever._ Not without your knowledge or permission.”

 

He stared at her coldly and saw her shrink back a little bit. She looked quite chastised and Draco hoped that she was thinking of an apology. Because Merlin, he deserved one from her for that. He’d done his best to go out of his way to give her the perfect courting gift, and she assumed straight away it had been doused in malicious spells, based on some story. It stung more than Draco wanted to admit.

 

But when she looked back up, she had a stubborn spark in her eyes. She lifted her chin a hair, almost challenging him with that haughty know-it-all air of hers he’d so loathed back at Hogwarts when they were young.

 

Draco ran his hand through his hair again and sighed.

 

“Why didn’t you ask?” he asked quietly, looking up at her. “Why didn’t you ask me instead of jumping to conclusions and accusing me?”

 

Hermione swallowed. “Draco… it’s not like I can just-“

 

Draco jumped up, tired of trying to control his anger and disappointment.

“It is exactly like that! You could just have _asked_ me, _trusted_ me to be honest with you!”

 

Hermione protested more vehemently this time.

“Draco, I do trust you! I do!”

 

Draco looked at her, not bothering to mask his disappointment anymore.

“Do you really Hermione? Fully trust me? The way I trust you? Would you have allowed me to place such charm to come to your aid in need on your pendant, if I would have asked you? Would you have been able to accept such Pureblood custom if I found it important enough?” He hated how vulnerable his own voice sounded.

 

There was a long pause between them. Hermione stubbornly held his gaze, pleading him with her eyes to believe her. He knew it wasn’t fair to ask this of her, because he knew she’d never agree to such charm. And he’d never ask it of her. He valued Pureblood traditions because he liked the gentlemanly ways and romantic background stories of some of them, but was willing to let go of most of them for her. Nonetheless, he did wonder how much she had faith in him. In them.

 

Then suddenly, Hermione let out a disbelieving cry.

“Come on Draco! I accepted your courting gift. I taught myself about Pureblood etiquette. It’s not as if I’m disregarding all of the Pureblood customs, however silly and outdated some of them may be. But it’s not easy for me. Unlike you, I didn’t grow up in this world. I’ll always need more time to adjust and there will always be things that I will do the Muggle way. And even if I were to do it all perfectly by the book, then still I wouldn’t be accepted in Pureblood society! Because I am and always will be Mudblood who isn’t good enough in their eyes!”

 

She was quiet again, as if she had realised that she’d been saying a lot more than she’d intended to.

Draco turned away, not able to look at her after saying _that word_ and started pacing.

 

“We come from different worlds. I know that. You know that. We feel it every day. But I’ve done the best I can to fit into your world, just to make you happy. I’d go and have my teeth checked out by your parents in Australia every month if that meant I could make you happy.”

 

He turned to face her and his heart broke at the sight of her. Sitting in his bed, knees huddled to her chest, biting her lip because she was nervous. Because she didn’t know what to say and she couldn’t take back what she had just spit out.

 

Draco resumed his pacing.

 

“And I know it isn’t easy for you to fit into my world. Trust me, I’m very much aware of it. I know most other Purebloods look down on you. That they refuse to give you the proper respect you deserve as a war hero and as the intended of the Head of House Malfoy. I know that even if we play by their rules, they’ll always feel more entitled. But I also know it is only a matter of time before they all have to acknowledge how brilliant you truly are. That it probably will not take you too long to make them see that you are actually far superior in everything and anything than any Pureblood could ever be. That you can achieve things they can not even comprehend with their tiny, prejudiced brains. I truly believe that, even if my world might not be the most welcoming right now.”

 

Draco turned to face Hermione once again, hiding his hands in his pockets.

 

“And I’ve seen you struggle with the rejection of your own friends. The lack of acceptance of our relationship from their side hurts you. I can see it.”

 

Hermione, clearly not liking where he was going with this line of conversation, sat up straighter, pushing away the sheets.

 

“Draco…” she pleaded.

 

But he resumed his speech.

“But I am a selfish man Hermione. I’m selfish enough to, despite seeing how your own friends dismiss what you have with me, still want you to myself. In the end, true friends will come around and will only want your happiness for you. In the end, we would only need each other.

 

“But to see you giving up so much, all of this, for someone like me, whom you do not even fully trust… I cannot-“ he choked on his own words, too overcome by emotion to even carry on.

 

He inhaled deeply, as if he needed it to find the courage to say the next words.

“I cannot ask that of you. I cannot live with myself asking that of you.”

 

Draco felt something hot slide down his cheek, and realised he was crying. He looked up at Hermione, whose eyes were shining with unshed tears as well. She slowly crawled forward, carefully, as if a too sudden movement might scare him away. She stopped and sat back on her knees, watching him as she was processing what he’d just said. What it meant.

 

“Draco.” she breathed, sounding lost. But she wasn’t denying anything. Wasn’t contradicting what he’d just said. Didn’t get angry with him for saying it in the first place. Would she give up so easily on them?

 

“Are you-” she swallowed, “are you breaking up with me?”

 

Draco shook his head, letting his emotions run free now, together with his tears.

 

“I don’t know. I love you Hermione, I love you.” his voice broke on the last word.

 

“I love you, and I cannot let you go. But I cannot live like this either.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter sneak peak:
> 
> _Could this be the one mistake of her lifetime? To let him go?_  
>  Her broken heart told her yes. Yes.  
> 
> 
> Also: the lyrics of the song that inspired this story might give away a clue as to how this will end: Turn the Tide by Jasper Steverlinck.


	30. Chapter 30

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In the aftermath of the crushing fight they had, both Hermione and Draco have some contemplating to do. Luckily for them, they do not stand alone.

**Now the day bleeds**  
**Into nightfall**  
**And you're not here**  
**To get me through it all**

 

_[Someone you loved - Lewis Capaldi]_

 

**______________________________________________________ **

 

He’d left her after his last words, too overcome to say anything else. It had broken her heart to see him so lost. And she’d been too shocked, too paralysed to say or do anything. She sat on the bed, _his_ bed, and crumbled. She could and would not stop the sobs that wrecked through her body.

 

Had he been right? Had there always been that tiny sliver of doubt from her side? Had she not fully trusted him? She knew she’d been struggling with the acceptance – or lack thereof – in his circles and in hers as well. It had hurt her to lose friends over a choice she’d made. She knew Draco had noticed, had known that it was partially because of him she was in this situation. But he’d tried hard, so hard for her. Tried to help her find closure with her parents, had stood by her side when things got difficult. Had believed in her own inner strength when everyone else had only seen a part of the Golden Trio. Had made her feel alive like no one else had been able to.

 

And she… she had given him a second chance and had accepted him the way he was. She had stood up against her own friends to defend her choice for him. She had followed him into their partnership, and let him make choices regarding her work, her future and her life that she would not have let anyone else make. And still… had she done enough? Had she given him the reassurances he’d given her? Had she really been willing to embrace his world, or at least the bits of it that were important to him? Had he done enough for her? Had he let her into his world enough for her to feel comfortable navigating in it?

 

Could this be the one mistake of her lifetime? To let him go?

Her broken heart told her yes. Yes.

 

*

 

The next few days had been lonely. Where Draco had gone, Hermione did not know. She’d waited for him in his apartment, even called on Radok to get more information. But the loyal House Elf had merely mentioned that “Master was away” without any hint of when he would return.

 

So Hermione had gone home, to her own apartment and had curled up in her bed.

It hadn’t taken too much overthinking on her part for the panic attack, which Draco had been able to keep at bay that morning, to resurface. This time, she did not have the energy or strength to fight it.

 

As she struggled to breathe through her tears, she curled up under her blankets. She wished Draco was there to calm her down, like he had done before. She wished she had the strength to call on Harry, who would come and take care of her immediately. She wished…

Her last thought was lost on her, as everything went black.

 

The next day she had woken up with a massive headache and a weird sense of disorientation. It had taken her a while to get out of bed. Fortunately she kept several vials of pain relief potions within reach. They took away the headache and soreness in her limbs, but did nothing for the hollow emptiness in her chest.

 

Having nothing better to do, Hermione had gotten dressed and gone to work like she had planned to do. She was grateful for the samples of their own Black-Out Beauty products that had been lying around in her bathroom. That way, she could at least cover up her red and puffy eyes and the dark circles underneath them.

 

At Kaizen, she’d checked in on the shop assistants, anxious to see the evidence of last night’s attack. She needn’t have worried: the shop was back in its previous pristine condition. There was not trace of the break-in. In a way Hermione was glad for that, as she wasn’t sure she could stand reading those words on the wall again.

 

There was no sign of Draco. Of course. She couldn’t very well have expected him to walk in and pretend nothing had happened at all. She knew he was suffering just as much as she was – she had never seen him cry after all. Never though him capable of doing so in her presence. But he had and it broke Hermione’s heart just a little bit more.

 

She decided to hide away in the office and fill out the paperwork that was necessary for the patent on her own invented potion.

 

When she heard footsteps coming up the stairs, her heart sped up to a thunderous pace. Could it be…?

Hermione strained her neck to so see who would enter, only to be disappointed that it wasn’t Draco, but Theo. Which wasn’t fair, not after Theo had taken care of her so well yesterday.

 

She gave him a watery smile.

 

Theo didn’t say anything, but strode over to her desk with his long legs, pulled her out of her chair and enveloped her in a warm hug.

 

It was enough to trigger another round of tears.

 

“Shhh.” Theo soothed her, stroking her hair while he held her close. “Shhhh. It’s alright, it’s alright.”

 

“I… I think I…” Hermione hiccupped, but Theo shook his head.

 

“Whatever happened, that’s between the two of you. And before you ask how I know and why I’m not yet making a fortune with my flawless divination skills: he’s staying at my place for the moment. And he looks worse than you do, and that’s saying something considering the current state of your hair.”

 

Hermione let out a shaky chuckle; trust Theo to joke while he was actually having a serious conversation about two brokenhearted people.

 

“Come on, you need some distraction.” Theo said as he pulled her towards the door.

“Wolfsbane. We’re going to lock ourselves up in the lab, order in food from my House Elf Phyllis and not emerge again until we have found a solution!” he explained when noticing her questioning frown.

 

“Oh, and if by happenstance Harry Potter were to come by to check on you, then of course I will relieve you from the burdensome task to make him feel welcome.”

 

Hermione snorted and swatted at Theo’s arm. Whether it was his own idea or whether he was here because Draco had asked his friend to keep an eye on Hermione, she had never been more glad to have Theo by her side.

 

*

 

Draco stood still as a statue. The room was dark, save for the faint orange light the fireplace was providing. Funny how the people, the _friends_ who had betrayed him, still gave him access to their very homes without a second thought. Apparently the Malfoy name still held enough power that a Sacred Twenty Eight family didn’t dare close off his Floo access. Or people were just careless.

 

He assumed the latter, but whatever it was, it got Draco right where he wanted to be.

 

It hadn’t taken his contacts long to provide him with answers concerning the break-in. Where the Aurors were still investigating – and Draco had no idea which clues they were looking at -, his Galleons and underworld connections had quickly led him to some shady men who, for the right price, could be hired to do anything. Even betray their former employer. Draco grimaced. The name they’d revealed to him had been unexpected, but not unsurprising. He should have known that some Purebloods had a talent for holding on to grudges. And thought that they could get away with anything.

 

So when the Floo roared to life and a cloaked figure stepped out of it, unaware of his presence, Draco smirked. Not the playful, teasing smirk he used to wear around Hermione. No, this was the cold and ruthless Malfoy trademark smirk.

 

“For the cunning woman you usually are, you forgot one of the basic rules.” he stated, calmly fingering his wand as he held it loosely in his hand.

 

The person gasped and whirled around, fumbling for her wand.

 

Draco stepped forward, into the light.

 

“Never. Ever. Cross a Malfoy. Because we always get what we want. Revenge included.” Draco continued coldly.

 

“Draco! What?”

 

“Spare me the talk.” he interrupted her.

 

He closed in on her, using his height to intimidate her further. Not that that was needed; she knew him too well to even dare attempt something to defend herself.

 

“You made one _big_ mistake paying those criminals to take care of your petty jealousy problem. By tomorrow morning, you will be ruined. Your name will be worthless in the circles you so love to frequent. You will feel the consequences of what it means to threaten someone protected by me.”

 

“Draco! Please! Let us talk about this!”

She sounded desperate as she clutched his arm, but he looked at her in disgust and shook her off.

 

As he had nothing else to say, he turned towards the Floo, carelessly threw in a handful of Floo Powder and mumbled “Nott Manor” before stepping through.

 

He wondered how he ever had thought Pansy a friend, or even good enough to consider her relationship material. It turned out that that was just another bullet point on his long list of things he’d done wrong in the past.

 

As he emerged from the fireplace in the reception room at Theo’s, the man in question was already waiting for him with a glass of his better whisky in hand.

 

Draco gratefully accepted the offered drink and slowly sipped it as he collected his thoughts. Thanks to his private investigators, he had stumbled upon some rather unsettling secrets of Pansy. Apparently, during the summer after the war she had ventured out in the Muggle world, where she wouldn’t be recognised as the Death Eater’s daughter she was. Unfortunately for her, she had not been the only magical person with this marvelous idea – hell, even he’d frequented Muggle bars and clubs more often than not at that time – and she had been recognised. Proof of her rather… intimate and embarrassing contacts with Muggle men had been captured on camera. Draco had paid handsomely for those pictures and had decided that Pansy deserved for them to be sent to the Daily Prophet for a salacious scoop.

 

She would be ruined for any Pureblood groom in the UK, and even beyond if she was unlucky. Knowing Pansy’s parents, they would insist on a Pureblood marriage, which meant she’d have to relocate to somewhere far away where her scandal would remain unknown. Draco knew this was quite heartless on his part, but it wasn’t anything Pansy didn’t deserve. He knew how vicious she could be when jealous. Better to take her out now before Hermione got hurt.

 

“She still wears it, you know. The necklace.” Theo murmured, breaking Draco’s line of thought.

 

Of course Hermione would still wear it. She wasn’t one to give up or let go easily. It had meant something to her to receive his necklace, and Draco believed that unless she absolutely could not forgive him, she would continue to wear it until he asked her to take it off or give it back. He wasn’t sure he could ever do that.

 

“I am truly sorry for telling her about the charms.” Theo continued, sounding genuinely remorseful.

 

Draco shook his head.

“I should have told her from the start. I just assumed that she… .” Draco swallowed, having trouble with keeping his emotions in check. Even after being separated from Hermione for almost two weeks, and maybe because of it, he still missed her. More than ever. Enough to contemplate whether he’d made a huge mistake, should swallow his pride and ask her to try again.

 

“It doesn’t matter now. If it hadn’t been for this, it would have been something else. There will always be something else. I just wish… I just wish it wouldn’t have been so hard for her to accept some of the things that are important to me. To trust me to make the right choices for her in these matters that are so new to her. I don’t think she realises how much I’ve already let go of…, how much I’ve changed the past two years. But I cannot completely lose my own identity in the process. Some of these things, they just make me who I am. And I’ve always been willing to change, but how far is too far?”

 

Theo sighed and put down his glass before burying his head in his hands.

“I think she still loves you mate.”

 

Draco smiled sadly. “I know she loves me. I _know_.”

 

Theo looked up at him and frowned, not comprehending what Draco was talking about. The silent question of how was clearly visible in his eyes.

 

Draco smiled more warmly as he remembered the potion she’d given him for Christmas. The one which made him experience the depth of her feelings for him. Ever since that day, he’d smelled it every morning and every night, losing himself in the warm feeling that was her pure, enduring love for him.

 

“That brilliant witch has made sure I know. _Fuck_ , I miss her.” Draco choked as he threw back the contents of his glass. But the whisky, while dulling his emotions a bit, did nothing to soothe the ache of his empty heart.

 

He had to get her back. He was hers, and would always be. So there was only really one option: to hope she could forgive him and still loved him enough to trust that they could make it. The only question was how.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter sneak peak:
> 
>  
> 
> _“Hermione,” Narcissa begun. “I should be mad at you. I should hex you and refuse to even let you set foot in here, because I know very well that the reason my son’s been so miserable, is you.”_


	31. Chapter 31

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hermione has a plan and Draco has a crisis. Good thing Narcissa is there to gently nudge everyone back into their preferred positions.

Hermione inhaled deeply and let the cold crisp air fill her lungs. After London, Bath literally was a breath of fresh air. Her apartment had reminded her too much of the times she’d spent there with Draco. And the times she hadn’t spent there with any other friends. Where her place once had been a refuge where she could come home and shake off the rush of the day, now it felt constricting. The pictures in the living room suddenly reminded her of her failures: her parents she’d lost, her friendships that had not survived some of her choices, … And in the end, there was nothing that really tied her to London. She’d always liked the countryside better anyway.

 

So she had taken the drastic, impulsive decision to spend a large amount of her well-earned money on a new home, a new start. As she hardly ever did something impulsive, it felt very new and freeing to her. She purposefully chose something away from London, as she needed the peace and quiet right now and could easily travel by Floo or Apparition..

 

On a whim, something Hermione had never done before, she had purchased an old but renovated cottage. Even though it was too large for her with its three bedrooms, she’d fallen in love with the house immediately. The purchase hadn’t been an issue at all – people were still willing to go the extra mile for the Golden Trio girl. It hadn’t even taken her two weeks to terminate her lease and move everything from London to the countryside. She was that eager for her new beginning. What was also important, was that Bath had a fairly large established wizarding community. Hermione knew it was time for her to accept that she had not ties left to the Muggle world and to immerse herself fully into the magical one.

 

Somehow, she felt she needed this new environment, this big decision just by and for herself to make other, hopefully lifechanging decisions. If there was one thing Hermione was good at, it was overanalyzing something, until she’d reached a conclusion and found a satisfying answer.

 

So she’d stubbornly gone through every little detail, every moment with Draco. And she’d realised that for her to convince Draco and to get him back, she would have to prove him she truly wanted _him_ , just the way he was. That he needed to see rather than hear that she was ready for a life with him, and all that it entailed to be part of his world, even if it would be on her own terms now and then. She already had an idea, but still was unsure of the details of the particular Pureblood custom she had in mind. She really wanted to do this the right way, to show Draco she cared enough to do this. And that meant she could only go to one person:

Narcissa.

 

*

 

Hermione fiddled with the hem of her dress as she sat down in an elegant chair, waiting for the mistress of the house. She had been more than surprised to have received an affirmative answer from Narcissa after she’d requested to meet up with Draco’s mother. Hermione would have thought that the woman would never want to see her again after what had happened with Draco. She’d assumed that no matter what, a mother’s instinct would always be to protect her son. And Narcissa… well… at times she resembled a mother lion more than anything: ready to rip out throats to protect her cub.

 

So when Narcissa had agreed to see her, Hermione knew this was her one and only chance. She’d swallowed her pride and anxiety and offered to come and visit Narcissa at the Manor. Much to Hermione’s relief, Narcissa had informed her that she was currently staying at a townhouse in the outskirts of London and would be pleased to receive her there. Hermione had dressed up, just to highlight the importance of their meeting for her, and had arrived via Floo promptly on time. Despite what Narcissa might think of her right now, she was determined to make a good impression.

 

As soon as she recognised the clicking of heels against the marble floor in the hallway, Hermione got up again and smoothed down her skirt. Narcissa, dressed to the nines as usual, swept into the room. Even though her face was a neutral but polite mask, Hermione felt the woman’s assessing gaze rove over her form. Hermione had lost some weight and knew she didn’t look her very best, and she had not doubt that Narcissa noticed it all in one glance.

 

“Hermione.” Narcissa finally greeted her with a gesture to sit down again. Without waiting for Hermione, she summoned her House Elf and ordered tea for the both of them.

 

Hermione smiled gratefully. Merlin knew she was going to need it, and maybe something stronger.

 

“Hermione,” Narcissa begun. “I should be mad at you. I should hex you and refuse to even let you set foot in here, because I know very well that the reason my son’s been so miserable, is you.”

 

Hermione tried not to shrink back at those words. Damnit, had she underestimated Narcissa’s willingness to do anything for her son’s wellbeing?

 

“But,” the older witch continued, “maybe a more correct phrasing would be that my son’s been so utterly miserable because of the _lack_ of you in his life.”

 

Hermione didn’t miss the twinkle in Narcissa’s eye.

 

“So if I am correct in assuming you are here to remedy this miserableness of him, I will gladly hear what you have to say.” Narcissa finished with a reserved smile before sipping her tea.

 

“How Draco ever managed to do anything he wasn’t allowed to under your watch… it sounds quite impossible.” Hermione smiled, relieved to find Narcissa an ally rather than a formidable opponent.

 

Narcissa shook her head while tsking. “We all know how well that ended, the last time a Malfoy man made some decisions on his own.”

 

Hermione gulped at the accusation at the address of her very own husband. But she’d long come to understand that Narcissa’s priority was and would always be her son. And that was what she was counting on right now.

 

“I love him. I love him and I need him back.” Hermione confessed.

 

Narcissa smiled, more genuinely now.

“I know. The question here is: how will you let him know?”

 

“I might have an idea.” Hermione started and leaned forward to explain.

 

“I want to prove to Draco that I fully choose him, that I’m not afraid of the consequences. That there is room for the traditions he so holds dear, for the values that make him who he is. I want him to realise that giving me this,” she touched her necklace, “was the right decision. That I know and honour what it means to him.”

 

“Are you ready for such a commitment? Courting, marriage, children? A lifetime together, no matter the hardships?” Narcissa inquired.

 

“Yes.” Hermione was proud of the confidence in her voice. She knew that if she went all in for Draco, there would be no way back. But she did not want a way back; she only wanted him.

 

Narcissa nodded. “And you were thinking of…?”

 

“A dowry.” Hermione answered.

 

Narcissa frowned. “Surely, this would be complicated with the current condition of your parents.”

 

Hermione smiled up at Narcissa.

“Not my own dowry – even though I would be able to provide that myself. No, a dowry for any future daughter. Malfoy daughter.”

 

She saw Narcissa’s eyes light up with a spark of hope. For generations, the Malfoys only had had sons, usually one, the sole heir to the name and fortune. To bring up the possibility of a daughter… it clearly was something that touched Narcissa.

 

Hermione continued, reading the approval off the witch’s face.

 

“I read about the Pureblood custom of a woman’s family to provide security for any of their daughters who are courting with the intent to get married, and to secure some sort of dowry for any female offspring.” At the affirmative nod of Narcissa, Hermione continued. “Therefore, I have decided to put all my shares in the company in a trust fund. Myself and any of my future daughters of the House Malfoy, will be named beneficiaries and owners of the fund.”

And with that, Hermione would make her intentions to wholeheartedly choose Draco, to eventually marry him and start a family with him more than clear. Once she had transferred the shares – one of her only means of income at the moment – the management of it would be in the hands of the bank, and no longer hers. It would mean that she would be bound to her promise to hand down her fortune to the next Malfoy daughter, whether it would be her own child, or a grandchild, or even someone further down the line. Most importantly, it meant that short of a blood oath or Unbreakable Vow, there was nothing stronger to confirm her commitment, her choice to be Draco’s. It was an enormous risk she was taking, it was a literal all-in from her side, but she knew that if something could convince Draco of her trust in them, it would be this.

 

“Oh Hermione.” Narcissa sighed before leaning forward to clasp both Hermione’s hands. “You have no idea, _no idea_ how happy this makes me. How happy this will make him.”

 

Hermione gently squeezed Narcissa’s hands. “This is the right thing to do, I just know it. Will you help me organizing this?”

 

“Of course, my darling girl, of course.”

 

Even though Hermione had not anticipated the swiftness with which Narcissa had acted, she wasn’t surprised either to find that the Malfoy matriarch had pulled some strings to get an appointment at Gringotts within the hour. Even though the Malfoy name was still recovering from the war, the fortune clearly meant something to the Goblins of Gringotts.

 

_Better get used to that._

 

It had taken Hermione over three hours to complete and sign the paperwork, set up the trust fund and transfer all her shares in Kaizen. Narcissa had ensured her that this was daily business for the Goblins, but Hermione had held her breath until the head of the department of investments handed her the certificates.

 

Hermione smiled at Narcissa, who embraced her warmly and with more emotion that Hermione had ever seen from the woman.

 

“I know the perfect occasion to sweep him off his feet with this, if you can be patient just a little while longer.” Narcissa whispered.

 

*

 

 Draco smashed the nearest objects – his ink bottle and quill – against the wall of his study. It shattered into tiny pieces, leaving splatters of ink everywhere on the wall and floor. Draco couldn’t care less.

 

In front of him lay the statement he had just received from the bank. When setting up the accounts of the company, he had demanded to be informed of any major changes he should be aware of as a partner.

 

Never had he ever expected to read what now lay in front of him. Just two short sentences, but they made his world crumble down and his hope evaporate. She’d sold her shares in _their_ company. Their whole partnership, gone with the single stroke of her quill. To whom, he did not know – they’d only told him that all of her shares had been transferred to a different owner. The Goblins weren’t allowed to tell him who. Not that he cared. The only thing that mattered was that it was not her anymore.

 

He shook his head. This could not be happening. This was a mistake. Yes, that was what it was.

This was all one big, _fucking_ mistake and he would crawl on his knees and beg for her forgiveness if it meant she would take him back. He’d been foolish, _so foolish_ to ever have stepped back. It had taken him losing her to realise she had been the one thing he couldn’t afford to lose.

 

Not hesitating a moment longer, Draco Apparated straight to the door of her apartment. Even though there was a slight chance Hermione’s wards would let him through, he wanted to do the polite thing and knock.

 

Only there came no answer.

 

He knocked again.

 

Nothing.

 

A door to the left opened, an older man stepping out and closing it again behind him.

 

“If you are looking for the pretty girl with the curly hair – she left a week ago.” he told Draco without invitation. “You’re not the first man to come knocking on her door fruitlessly.”

 

Draco stared at the man, too shocked to respond. Slowly, everything started to dawn on him. Her shares: sold. Her apartment: empty. Draco sunk to the floor as his buried his head in his hands.

 

She was gone. Gone. And he’d had no chance to apologise, no opportunity to convince her of his love, of how they could and would do this, as long as they were together.

 

He was too late. He’d lost her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter sneak peak:  
>  _Narcissa was fiddling with his chest pocket now and Draco realised to late that she was pinning a flower to his robes._
> 
> _Draco arched a questioning eyebrow at her. It was a white snowdrop, the symbol of hope.  
> _


	32. Chapter 32

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> And finally... the reunion!

**I just can’t believe**   
  
**you’d give me one more chance**   
  
**and I just can’t believe**   
  
**you’d love to make it right**   
  
**and I just can’t believe**   
  
**you’d want to turn the tide**

 

_[Turn the tide cover by Jasper Steverlinck]_

 

**________________________________________________**

 

Draco looked at his reflection in the mirror. He looked like the confident young entrepreneur he was in his immaculate black dress robes. That was the picture he wanted to portray tonight. He wanted to show the world how much he had changed. He wanted them to see him the way _she_ had seen him right there in the library at Hogwarts all those months ago. He wanted to be that man; the one she’d believed in.

 

He was adjusting his cufflinks again as he heard a soft knock on the door of his dressing room behind him.

 

Upon his curt “Yes?” his mother entered. She looked elegant in her shimmering black and white gown, ready to conduct the events of this evening.

 

“You look beautiful, as always Mother.” he complimented her and noticed the pleased shine in her eyes.

 

“Thank you, my dragon. You look very handsome too.” she glided over to where he was standing and wiped a non-existent speck of dust off his shoulder before allowing him to kiss her on her cheek. “Hoping to impress the ladies?”

 

Draco sighed, but gave his mother a hesitant smile.

“You know I’m only hoping to see one particular lady tonight. Even though she hasn’t returned any of my owls.” The last sentence was uttered with a bitter undertone to his voice.

 

“I personally made sure that she received the invitation Draco.” his mother reassured him. “I have a feeling she will surprise us all tonight.” Then his mother, very uncharacteristically, winked at him. He knew her better than not to assume that she was pulling strings to get the outcome she wanted. She’d always been a master at making sure people ended up doing exactly what she wanted them to do, most of the time without them even noticing it. Draco also knew his mother better than to ask questions. Unlike his father, he could trust his mother to only make decisions that would help him along in the end. She valued his wellbeing more than any title, tradition or the race for power.

 

Narcissa was fiddling with his chest pocket now and Draco realised too late that she was pinning a flower to his robes.

 

Draco arched a questioning eyebrow at her. It was a white snowdrop, the symbol of hope.

 

“Perfect.” Was the only thing his mother said, before sweeping out of the room with a casual “Five minutes dear.” thrown over her shoulder.

 

Draco didn’t know what to think of this, but knew his mother well enough to understand there was more at play here. Hope bloomed in his chest. Would Hermione be here? Did his mother know something more when it came to the witch?

 

After all, this whole gala served only one purpose: to make a grand gesture and get the attention of Hermione.

 

He hadn’t seen her in twenty-two days. He’d been counting, especially because he had had no way to contact her, make sure she was okay besides the sparse news Theo could give him. She had sold her shares. She had moved out of her apartment and if Potter had been truthful with Draco, out of London too. She hadn’t come in for work at Kaizen. She hadn’t replied to any of his owls. If he’d really have wanted to, he could have tracked her down in no time. He could have pressured Theo in going after her, he could have tried convincing Potter to take him to her. But he had respected her choices – about time he started doing that more consciously – and let her take the lead. He was just providing her with opportunities to come back. And with evidence that he did care for her.

 

The current plan actually was his own mother’s. It seemed she either missed Hermione too, or was desperate to bring some happiness to her son.

 

It was quite simple really. With a hefty donation and some help at the Ministry (which also had depended on a nice amount of shining Galleons), Draco had set up a foundation in just a few days. Coming to think of it, it all had gone suspiciously smooth at the Ministry. The foundation’s only goal was to make sure Muggle-borns got a proper introduction to the Wizarding World as soon as their magic was detected. His lawyers were currently lobbying at the Wizengamot to introduce a new policy that Muggle-borns were notified at a much earlier age than 11 of the fact that they were wizards and witches. The younger the Muggle-borns were able to discover the Wizarding World, the better. It prepared them better for their education at Hogwarts and their life in a new world with its own history and set of rules.

 

He’d done all this not only in honour of Hermione – he liked to think she would be proud of him for making this possible – but he also firmly believed in better opportunities for Muggle-borns to get acquainted with the Wizarding World. It would make them stand out less and would make them more appreciative of the complex history of wizards and witches. It would reduce the chance of something like the past war ever happening again, as Pureblood fanatics had less arguments against Muggle-borns who were well-informed and well-integrated in their society. With the foundation firmly into place and able to carry out its plans, a lunatic like Voldemort would never again find as many disgruntled Purebloods to rally to his side.

 

Tonight’s gala was the official presentation of the new foundation and its projects. Everyone who was someone and wanted to contribute to a better wizarding community after the war, including ambassadors of other countries who were interested in the project, would be there. Draco could only hope Hermione would be too.

 

With one last check of his appearance in the mirror he left the dressing room and descended the stairs to get ready to welcome his guests.

 

*

 

Even though the muscles in his cheek hurt from the constant smiling, Draco had to admit that he did enjoy the new respect people were starting to show for him. It was something he could only have dreamed of a few years ago. He’d just been shaking hands with the German ambassador and charming the ambassador’s wife with a few well-aimed compliments that had made the old witch giggle and swat at his arm, when he noticed _her_. In fact, he was sure that he wasn’t the only one noticing the divine figure stepping out of the Floo grate.

 

She looked more beautiful than ever. Draco knew his heart rate had just sped up to an unhealthy hammering in his chest, but he couldn’t tear his eyes away.

 

Hermione, smoothing down the skirt of her no doubt expensive couture dress, had an alluring air of confidence about her. She looked magnificent in her dark forest green gown, a flimsy thing made of strategically placed lace in between sheer layers of tulle. While it covered her whole body, it gave the illusion that it could be see-through, which only added to the witch’s natural allure. Her hair had been pinned out of the way, drawing the attention to not only his necklace, but also a beautiful set of matching earrings. Upon closer inspection, Draco recognised them as being his mother’s heirlooms from the Black vaults. Before he could contemplate what that meant, Hermione’s gaze had locked on his and she threw him a coy smile. Draco swore his heart skipped a few beats just there and then.

 

With a few confident strides – _Salazar_ , those swaying hips were mesmerizing to watch! – she was standing right in front of him.

 

A silent question flickered in her eyes before she lightly placed one hand on his chest. As if she was doubting whether she still could touch him, claim the beating heart that was currently covered by her warm hand.

 

“You’re here.” Draco found his voice again. His fingers gently touched her soft hand, before wrapping around it fully and pressing both their hands closer to his chest.

 

“I am.” Hermione replied, before standing on her tiptoes and gently pressing her lips against his.

 

Draco closed his eyes and savoured her familiar fragrance that enveloped him. The realization of just how much he had missed her came crashing down upon him and his hands automatically found their familiar spots at her waist. _Let me have this. Please let me have this._

 

Too soon, Hermione leaned back and Draco had to suppress the urge to chase her lips and prolong the kiss. He inhaled her scent more deeply and let himself bask in her warm presence for another second before he opened his eyes again.

 

She was fiddling with his lapels and to his surprise, had added another flower next to the one his mother had pinned onto his robes. It was a single white Camilla Japonica. Its meaning wasn’t lost on Draco: _my destiny is in your hands_.

 

He looked up at her again, only to find she’d stepped away to take the empty spot beside him, where usually the hostess of the event would stand. He had so many questions for her, but she just smiled at him and shook her head.

 

“Later darling.” she purred, a bit too satisfied with his confusion. “Let’s welcome our guests first.”

 

*

 

If one would have asked Draco who he’d welcomed after Hermione had taken her place as if she was the Lady of the hour, gracefully kissing and charming the guests, he wouldn’t have been able to answer, even at wand-point. He was too distracted by the lovely witch next to him. Too relieved to see her here, with that spark in her eyes that promised him so much more, _later_.

 

At his mother’s signal, he offered Hermione his arm, which she gracefully accepted with a coy smile in his direction. Even though she was still very… _Hermione_ , he detected something else as well. She seemed so at ease in her role as hostess, which she had assumed without question or comment. And she complimented him so well, Draco couldn’t help but muse. Watching her interact with the prominent members of wizarding society, he felt proud to see her so in her element. It was a side of her he hadn’t seen before. And which he hoped to see many more times. The confidence and commanding attitude suited her somehow. _But then she’s always been the bossy litte know-it-all bookworm_. Draco chuckled under his breath.

 

Nodding at his mother in passing, Draco led Hermione straight to the middle of the dance floor. He offered her his hand, politely bowing in the process. Where she had been nervous to open the ball last time at his mother’s Christmas event, now Hermione gracefully dropped into a curtsey before placing her hand in his.

In one fluent movement, Draco pulled her flush against him, closer than was appropriate. But he couldn’t care less – he had missed her too much. As Hermione placed her free hand on his shoulder, Draco didn’t miss the subtle brush of her fingers against his neck, the soft stroke against his hairline. Goosebumps spread all over his skin at the contact.

 

The orchestra struck the first notes of the opening waltz and Draco twirled the both of them over the dance floor. If and how many people were watching, he did not know. He only had eyes for Hermione, who was gazing up at him with an adoring look on her face. They crossed the length of the dance floor several times, their feet light and their turns smooth. It just felt right, to have her in his arms, for all the world to see.

 

After a while, Draco recognised the last few chords of the song, which meant their dance had come to an end. As the audience politely clapped while filling the floor for the next dance, Hermione tugged at his hand. Draco didn’t hesitate to follow her, off the dance floor, through the crowd – wasn’t he supposed to speech at some point? – out of the room and into the hallway.

 

The moment he turned the corner and was out of sight of the crowd, he felt her hands curl around his face, pulling him closer. A second later, her lips crashed into his. Draco didn’t slow down, but kept on walking, pushing her through the hall while she pulled him towards her. He backed her up into the next room – he vaguely recognised it as a study – while plundering her mouth.

 

His fingers curled around her hips, keeping her body as close as possible against his as he walked her backwards until she bumped into a piece of furniture. Draco more felt than saw that it had a flat surface – it probably was a table or a desk. He pushed on, lifting Hermione up until she was sitting just at a slightly higher level than he was standing.

 

She automatically opened her legs, allowing him to step in between them before curling her legs around his waist. Draco growled as he felt her heat straight through the fabric of her dress and his trousers. His blood pooled south immediately. The fact that he was forced to look up to meet her lips in bruising kisses over and over again only heightened his arousal. Merlin, how he’d missed her.

 

He let his hands run over her body, reacquainting himself with the familiar dips and curves.

 

While occupying one hand with her breasts, his other hand clasped the knee that was curled around his hip. He caressed his way up along her thigh, under her skirt and in between her legs. With one smooth movement Draco replace the pressure of his arousal with his hand and coaxed her to open up for him. She was already wet and eager for him, but that did not surprise him. What did was that his fingers met no barrier of underwear at all.

 

The thought alone of her being completely naked under her dress was enough to make Draco growl. He straightened again and pressed his forehead against hers, closing his eyes a moment in an attempt to regain some control over his body. He failed miserably.

 

“If I had known this,” Draco hissed while he slowly added pressure with his fingers, sliding them back and forth, back and forth, “you would not have made it outside that ballroom. I would have taken you in the middle of the floor, there and then.”

 

Hermione tilted her head back, enjoying the teasing dance of Draco’s fingers on her clit. Her breath hitched as he inserted two fingers in her dripping wet canal and pushed hard.

 

A soft, pleading whine escaped her lips and she ground her hips into his hand, begging for more. Draco smirked at the movement. She was slick with need, and her responses to his touch only fueled his passion.

 

But he knew there were questions to be asked and answered before he lost himself completely in his intoxicating witch.

 

So he withdrew his fingers, which earned him a disgruntled sound. As she was realised he was withdrawing his hand from where she wanted it most, she reclaimed his lips instead. Draco could feel her urgency and hunger in her kiss, in the way she battled his tongue with hers.

 

His hands easily found their way back on top of her clothes and he smoothed down the fabric around her hips. As his left arm snaked around her waist, his right one followed the curve up her spine, to disappear into her hair. Hermione moaned into his mouth and the sound was almost Draco’s undoing. Even the tiniest of her reactions made his blood boil, made his need for her grow.

 

It was a show of utter willpower that made it possible for him to pull away from her lips. He rested his forehead against her shoulder, both of them panting from their passionate moment. Draco turned his attention to her collarbone, lightly grazing her skin with his teeth. Hermione’s head fell back again and she shuddered at the contact

 

“Hermione…” Draco breathed.

 

She responded by wrapping herself more firmly around him, her fingers soothingly combing through his hair.

His lips latched onto the side of her neck and travelled upwards, along her throat towards her ear. Hermione’s fingers clawed at his shoulders in response to his touch.

 

“I thought I had lost you, after you sold your shares.” he murmured against her hair.

 

Hermione shook her head.

 

“I though _I_ had lost _you._ ” she admitted after a pause.

 

“Never.” Draco murmured against her skin. “Never. I was stupid, I shouldn’t ha-”

 

“Shhhh.” Hermione interrupted him. “Both of us, both of us.”

 

She withdrew from him and Draco reluctantly let her.

 

She looked at him, a small smile gracing her lips.

 

“I’m so proud of you Draco. Tonight… it means so much to me to know what you’ve done.”

 

Draco traced her cheekbone with his knuckles.

“For you. Surely you must know I did it for you.”

 

Hermione nodded.

“I know. That’s why I pulled all the strings I had at the Ministry as soon as your mother told me about it.”

 

Draco blinked. She had known? More so, she had actually helped setting up the foundation? And his mother had informed her, just as his mother had whispered the idea in his own ear? Draco almost laughed out loud at the clever manipulating ways of his mother. And underlined the already existing mental note not to ever cross the woman.

 

Hermione ruffled with her skirt, only to produce a folded sheet of parchment from a hidden pocket.

“And surely you must know, I did this for you.”

 

She held out he parchment for him to take.

 

With a questioning glance, Draco accepted it. He only leaned back enough to open and read the document, refusing the step back from between her legs.

 

As his eyes scanned the parchment, he didn’t need to read much to realise what this was.

 

“You put your shares into a trust? For you and your daughters?”

 

Draco’s voice was laced with confusion and a tiny spark of hope. Did he dare to interpret this the way he badly wanted to?

 

“Malfoy daughters.” Hermione said, her voice confident and unwavering. Draco decided that she had never looked more lovely than it that moment. If the document didn’t explain it all already, the emotion in her eyes certainly did.

 

Draco knew he was stunned into silence. His brain, so desperate to believe her, was still processing what she had just said. Did she… ? Could she really mean… ?

 

“I love you, Draco.” Hermione simply said, touching the lovely pendant he’d given her. “I want to be yours. Your lover, your wife, the mother of your children. Your confidante and partner in crime. And there is the minor detail of being the center of your universe.”

 

Draco couldn’t help but smirk at her.

 

“What?” Hermione teased, noticing the twinkle in his eyes.

 

“Remember what I told you?” Draco drawled as he toyed with the neckline of her dress.

 

“You say an awful lot of things. Almost as bad as Theo really.” Hermione quipped back.

 

Draco wasn’t distracted by her comment however.

His intense mercury eyes bore straight into her warm brown ones.

 

“I told you two things about the Malfoy men.” The hand around her waist pulled her just that tiny bit closer to the edge of the table, making her feel what exactly it was she did to him.

 

“I recall you said you could be patient.” Hermione teased while she nudged her hips forward, rubbing them _right so_ over his painfully hard cock.

 

“I might have lied about that.” Draco growled in response. He nipped at her neck before continuing.

“Your dress might not survive the tiny shred of patience I still have left.”

 

He could almost feel Hermione shivering at his words. _Perfect._

 

“I also promised your something else.”

 

“Draco…” Hermione moaned, grinding herself into his arousal again with more determination.

 

“I always get what I want Hermione.” Draco said in a devilishly low voice. “And I want you. You’re all mine. Tonight. Tomorrow. And for as long as you’ll have me.”

 

With that promise, he wrapped both of his arms around her tiny frame before Apparating them back to his bedroom.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I believe we have two more chapters to go, before this story is complete!  
> Next chapter sneak peak:
> 
> _He took her hand, which fitted to perfectly in his and fiddled with her fingers. “Hermione, I made my intentions clear a long time ago, and after last night there is no doubt from my side of your love for me. Of your trust in me. And I will work every day to prove to you that I’ve earned that trust.”  
>  Draco looked up again, as if he was looking for something in her eyes. Hermione could barely stifle a gasp as he slowly got on one knee, never breaking eye contact._


	33. Chapter 33

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's the morning after, and there's a very important next step Hermione and Draco will take.

Draco woke up as a gentle breeze played with his platinum locks. There was a pleasant ache to his limbs, that spoke of the even more pleasant activities of the night before. Keeping his eyes closed for just a moment longer, he smirked at the memory of the _very_ passionate reunion with his love. _Salazar_ , how he had missed her. Not only in his bed, but it definitely was something he didn’t want to part with again. He reached out blindly with one arm as he rolled over to Hermione’s side of the bed, only to notice it was empty. Still warm, but empty.

 

Draco peeked through his lashes, to confirm that Hermione had indeed left the bed. What he also noticed was that the sliding door to his balcony had been opened and a little note and another flower had been placed on the pillow next to his. He reached out lazily and lifted the note just enough for him to be able to read it.

 

_‘Convince me, Mister Malfoy.’_ was written in Hermione’s elegant script. Confused, he reread the note, but besides the one sentence, he couldn’t decipher what she meant. That was until he inspected the flower. A branch with Venus’ Car. _Fly with me._

 

Instantly, Draco’s memory took him back to the Black lake, all those months ago.

 

_“Maybe one day I’ll even be able to convince you of the beauty of flying on a broom.” he had teased her. She’d scoffed._

_“As if Harry and practically all the Weasleys haven’t tried. Really Draco, you’ll not get me to hop on a broom and fly off to the horizon anytime soon.”_

_“What if you were hopping on my broom with me? Maybe you would let me take you flying with me.”_

_“Good luck with that! You’ll never even get me close to the damn broom.” Hermione had replied and she’d swatted playfully at his shoulder._

_“Careful Hermione, you do not want to challenge a Malfoy.”_

 

A smirk slowly spread over his handsome face.

Oh that witch! Challenge him she most certainly had done. In more ways than he would ever had thought to be able to tolerate. With newfound energy, he threw back the duvet and hopped out of bed. In record time he’d thrown on some clothes and Summoned his broom. If she presented him with such an opportunity, he did not want to waste any time and give her a chance to overthink it and change her mind.

 

He found her outside on his balcony. Her delicate hands were wrapped around a mug of tea. She looked lovely in her simple jeans and soft jumper, hair still wild from their lovemaking last night.

Draco put his broom aside before stepping up behind her.

 

Even though Hermione must have heard him approaching, she did not turn around. Draco wrapped his arms around her waist from behind and pulled her closer until she was nestled against his chest.

 

He lowered his lips to her neck and murmured against her warm skin.

“Never pegged you for the type to be begging me to ride my broom darling. You only ever need to ask.”

 

Her rather felt than heard her chuckle, but did notice the pretty blush warming her cheeks. As she leaned into his embrace, she carefully sipped her tea.

 

“I hope your broom is in perfect working condition Mr. Malfoy.” Hermione commented, clearly in a playful mood.

 

Draco chuckled throatily.

“You would know, you minx.”

Merlin, he loved this woman. He knew for certain that he just would never get enough of her. And he hoped she would allow him a lifetime to spend with her.

 

Tugging at her waist, Draco coaxed her in turning around. Hermione shot him a questioning glance as she noticed the serious look in his eyes. He ignored her need for clarification for a moment.

 

He took her hand, which fitted so perfectly in his and fiddled with her fingers. “Hermione, I made my intentions clear a long time ago, and after last night there is no doubt from my side of your love for me. Of your trust in me. And I will work every day to prove to you that I’ve earned that trust.”

 

Draco looked up again, as if he was looking for something in her eyes. Hermione could barely stifle a gasp as he slowly got on one knee, never breaking eye contact.

 

“Hermione,” Draco continued, strengthening his grip on her hand. “would you make me the happiest man and do me the honour of…”

 

“YES!” Hermione squealed as she stepped closer, her legs touching his. Her smile could light up the whole of London.

 

“… flying with me?” Draco finished with a smug smirk, one Hermione had called his ‘patent Malfoy smirk’ several times.

 

For a second, there was only a stunned silence between them.

 

Next, Hermione cried “Draco!” and pounced on him, knocking him back on the ground. She scrambled on top of him and straddled his hips, swatting at his chest.

 

“You evil, evil man!” she cried while biting her lip to prevent a grin from escaping.

 

Draco laughed, truly, genuinely laughed and gripped her hips with both hands. He tried to lean up for a kiss, but Hermione pushed him down firmly.

 

“I really thought…” she confessed, absentmindedly stroking his chest.

 

Draco lifted a hand and caressed an escaped curl out of her face and tucked it behind her ear.

 

“I know, and I love you so much.” he whispered.

 

He succeeded to claim her lips on his second try and sat up straight, reveling in the way her body so perfectly fit against his.

 

“But I will remember you technically already said yes. Seems only fair after the way you tricked me on Christmas.” Draco teased. “Now, how about that flight?”

 

They both got up, Hermione a bit more hesitantly than Draco.

Draco pulled her back into their previous embrace and wandlessly Summoned his broom.

 

As he held Hermione close, he maneuvered her right so that she sat in front of him, his arms around her like a protective cage. He gently guided the broom between their legs and laughed at Hermione’s teasing comment on how big his broom was and how she had to squeeze it quite hard to get a tight grip on it. Draco nipped at her earlobe and pulled her flush against him.

 

“Keep your hands right here,” Draco gently instructed, “and put your feet on the handles in the back.”

 

Hermione did as he said and tried to find her balance.

“Ready.” She said, with more confidence than she probably felt.

_That’s my Gryffindor lioness._

 

Draco wrapped himself even more tightly around her, trying to reassure her with his steady support. That and the feeling of her warm, soft arse pressed against his rapidly growing arousal that was just heavenly. Hermione, who realised that Draco’s cock was becoming very interested, wiggled her bum a few times. Draco groaned and kissed her neck heatedly. If she was trying to distract him from actually taking off, she was doing an admirable job… Draco shook his head a focused on their flying sessions again.

 

He cast a Warming, Sticking and Disillusionment charm.

 

“We’ll hover over the balcony here for a bit before taking off. If at any time, _any time_ , you want to stop, just let me know.”

 

Draco felt Hermione nod and pushed off gently. They floated up a few feet, just like a first-year would do during their first flying lesson.

They floated above the ground and after a moment, Draco carefully flew them back and forth from one side of the balcony to the other.

 

“Draco?” Hermione asked. “Can we just… do it?”

 

Draco hesitated. While he knew she was talking about flying, he somehow felt she was seeking reassurance about _them_ as well.

 

“Do you trust me?” Draco whispered in her ear as he nuzzled her curls.

 

“Yes.” she said, not hesitating a heartbeat.

 

Draco didn’t need more encouragement than that and directed the broom up in the air, then over the balcony railing. Higher and higher they went at a steady pace, until they had a lovely view of the city. Hermione, who was frozen in place in front of him and glued to his chest, suddenly let out a high-pitched laugh, that sounded both anxious and exhilarated.

 

A wave of excitement mixed with tenderness Draco reserved only for Hermione rushed over him.

 

He did not know what the future would bring, or whether their journey would be smooth. But Draco didn’t care about either as he wrapped Hermione in a tighter embrace. Because he knew that right here, right now, he was exactly where he belonged.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Last chapter coming up!  
>  _With a satisfied smirk, she turned around, only to come face to face with Draco, who had arrived and was looking at her with an amused twinkle in his eyes._
> 
> _“Do I want to know?”_
> 
> _Hermione smiled warmly at her husband as she placed a hand on his cheek and kissed him. That seemed to distract Draco. After all these years, they still could ignite that spark between them instantaneously.  
> _


	34. Chapter 34

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Epilogue!

“Hermione!”

 

Hermione turned around when she heard his voice reverberate through the hall. If she hadn’t noticed the slightly panicked tone of his voice – _Merlin,_ he almost never lost his calm – she probably would have sent a Stinging hex at his arse for being so loud. But that would be a waste of a beautiful piece of arse. Hermione suppressed a snigger.

 

“Radok.” she called the House Elf, who immediately appeared at her side.

 

“Mistress has called?”

 

“Please remind our guest downstairs that if he so much as makes Orion or Elara stir in their beds, he will know what it means to experience the consequences of angering the Lady of the House.”

 

Radok bowed with a murmured “At once, Mistress.” and a sly grin on his wrinkled face.

 

He immediately left the room with a soft ‘pop’ and a moment later, Hermione recognised the sound of the door of her study opening and closing again. She smiled. Having been Mrs. Malfoy for seven years now had made Hermione accustomed to getting her way. Her husband could never say no to her – at least not when she put an effort in convincing him the proper way. Her children were adorable but intelligent enough to know not to step on their mother’s toes. And the House Elves had turned out to be excellent allies for Hermione to get everything done just the way she wanted.

 

If only Theo was so well-behaved.

 

With an amused roll of her eyes, Hermione Apparated straight into her study, enjoying the way it still startled the wizard in front of her.

 

“Hermione!” he started right away.

 

Theodore Nott looked a mess. Even though he always looked impeccable and hardly ever showed his true emotions, Hermione had come to know him better over the years. Especially after asking him to become Elara’s godfather three years ago now, she’d seen Theo soften considerably. He’d actually cried when he’d held his godchild for the first time and it had stunned both Draco and Hermione.

 

To have him arriving in such a state at eleven in the evening… that meant something serious was going on.

 

“Would you like something to dri-” Hermione wanted to offer, but she was interrupted by a frantic looking Theo.

 

“I kissed him, Hermione. I. KISSED. _Him_.”

 

Hermione would have smiled if he hadn’t sounded so utterly miserable.

 

“Him being…?” Hermione gently probed.

 

“Potter! Bloody Potter!” Theo cried as he sunk into the couch and buried his head in his hands.

 

Hermione smiled.

 

“Don’t stand there smirking at me!” Theo went on. “What am I going to _do?_ ”

 

“Do it again?” Hermione suggested.

 

Theo threw her an incredulous look, as if she’d just suggested to start a House Elve fashion line together.

 

“ _’Do it again.’_ That’s the advice from the Brightest Witch of our Age? _Do it again??_ ”

 

“Don’t you want to?” Hermione asked innocently.

 

Theo spluttered. “Of course I- That’s not even relevant here witch!”

 

Hermione sat down next to Theo.

 

“What did Harry do?” she asked gently.

 

Theo blinked at her.

“What do you mean?”

 

“What did Harry do? Did he say anything? Did he kiss you back? I’d think it fairly obvious that his reaction will tell us how to handle this.”

 

Theo blinked at her again.

“I don’t know. I Apparated straight home.”

 

“Theo!” Hermione admonished as she swatted at his shoulder.

“You’ve been harbouring a crush on him for Merlin knows how long, and now you finally, _finally_ , have the courage to do something about it, you don’t give it a chance!”

 

“The courage?” Theo protested. “More like the one second my brain refused to cooperate and my lips took over. But he was looking so devastated, after he’d had to find out about Ginny’s wedding through the papers. And I didn’t think… I didn’t. I just… kissed him.”

 

Hermione sighed. Before she could say more on the matter however, Radok appeared next to her with a slight bow.

 

“Mistress has another visitor. In the drawing room.”

 

Hermione glanced at Theo, who was still pulling at his hair in desperation.

 

“I’ll be right back.” she said to Theo, and silently instructed Radok to give the wizard a glass of Firewhisky.

 

As she exited the study and crossed the hall towards the drawing room where they received guests that Floo’d over, she wondered who it could be. Not many people had access to their Floo.

 

As she turned the corner and spotted the unruly black mess that was Harry Potter’s hair, Hermione smirked. _Excellent._

 

“Harry!” Hermione called out as she closed the distance between them and hugged her best friend.

“To what do I owe the pleasure at this time at night?”

 

Harry ran a hand through his hair, not very unlike another wizard had just been doing.

 

“I need to talk to you. I’m sorry for the inconvenient timing, I hope I haven’t interrupted anything.”

 

Hermione smiled. “Not at all! And your timing is quite perfect.”

 

She didn’t bother to respond to Harry’s confused look, but opened the door with a wave of her hand.

“My study?”

 

“Sure.” Harry said and followed her across the hall.

 

Hermione opened the door to her study with another wave of her hand, gesturing for Harry to go in first. But as soon as he’d entered the room, she shut the door again, locked it with a few carefully placed charms, which would cost them at least half the night to undo, unless they had some Malfoy blood at hand.  

 

“I will see you boys for breakfast tomorrow morning.” she called through the door. “Summon Radok if you need anything.”

 

Without waiting for a reply, Hermione Silenced the whole room. Whether Harry and Theo would be arguing or doing something entirely else, she didn’t need to witness it.

 

With a satisfied smirk, she turned around, only to come face to face with Draco, who had arrived and was looking at her with an amused twinkle in his eyes.

 

“Do I want to know?”

 

Hermione smiled warmly at her husband as she placed a hand on his cheek and kissed him. That seemed to distract Draco. After all these years, they still could ignite that spark between them instantaneously.

 

“Harry and Theo are joining us for breakfast.” Hermione informed Draco almost casually.

 

“Is that so?” Draco drawled, one eyebrow raised in question. But he knew better than to press on. He wrapped an arm around Hermione’s waste and pulled her closer.

 

“You know how much I like it when you get all Slytherin.” he murmured as his lips found their way down her neck with open-mouthed kisses. “Makes me wonder what else you’re up to.”

 

“Wouldn’t you like to know, my love?” Hermione teased as she arched her back, allowing her body to press more fully into his. She could feel the very prominent proof of how much he liked her cunning way pressing against her stomach.

 

“I want to know _everything_ about you. I want to know how you moan when I bury my tongue between your legs. I want to know how prettily you’ll gasp my name as I make you come on my cock.”

 

Feeling her arousal spike at his words, Hermione buried her fingers in his hair.

“Mister Malfoy,” she gasped, “Those sure are some… interesting things to know. However, such knowledge might not be easy to obtain.”

 

“My darling,” Draco responded in that delicious dangerous drawl of his. He began walking her backwards towards his own study, right next to hers. “Haven’t you learned by now? Malfoys always get what they want.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And that's it!
> 
> Thank you all for reading, commenting and getting cramps in your fingers and toes from crossing them for our favourite couple!
> 
>  
> 
> I've got an idea for a new story, but do not know yet when I will have time to write and post it.  
> *sends over a smirking Draco to keep her readers occupied in the meanwhile*


End file.
